


Of Hobbits and Dwarves

by soul_of_blaze



Series: Of Hobbits and Dwarves [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarf Courting, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hobbit Courting, Hobbits, M/M, Minor Angst, So many hobbits, adding characters as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soul_of_blaze/pseuds/soul_of_blaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Thorin wakes, there is much to be done. And many people to reconcile with, of the many including Bilbo Baggins. </p><p>Things fall into place better than he expected, but much hurt lingers on their backs and their story is not so easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY.
> 
> Here it is! The small paragraph at the beginning is from The Hobbit, on page 273 if anyone is interested in double checking but I assure you it is there and that's where I got it from. I guess that means spoilers if you haven't read the book? Though if you are reading this, then I cannot say much more beyond the fact.

_Then Bilbo turned away, and he went by himself, and sat alone wrapped in a blanket, and, whether you believe or not, he wept until his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse. He was a kindly little soul. Indeed it was long before he had the heart to make a joke again. “A mercy it is,” he said at last to himself, “That I woke up when I did. I wish Thorin were living, but I am glad we parted in kindness. You are a fool, Bilbo Baggins, and you made a great mess of that business with the stone: and there was a battle, in spite of your efforts to buy peace and quiet, but I suppose you can hardly be blamed for that.”_

Dale, even in its wreck, had become a hub of activity in the hours that followed the ending of the battle. All around the small Hobbit, who had hidden himself within the wreckage and in his blanket, various Men and Dwarves moved about, taking care of bodies as fast as they could. Bodies of orcs would not be cleared right away. Bilbo did not understand that so much, but he supposed that they were more concerned with their dead. 

On occasion, he'd spot an elf or two. They came and went briefly. Dwarves would avoid them but the Men seemed fine to request their help in lifting a body up or moving away wreckage. Likely, Dale would be restored as Erebor was. 

No one had yet to spot him. He was grateful for it, to be able to sit by and try to calm himself down completely. It made his heart ache, that though he had been able to talk to Thorin once more, not all of his emotions could be so easily cured and forgiven. Not by himself, at any rate. If he had woken earlier, if he had not been knocked out all, he might have had more time to say goodbye. To, perhaps, say things that he would have liked to let the King know.

Alas, Bilbo could but bury his head into hands and wish for the energy of a tear.

"How many dead?"

"Too many. We've been recording the ones we can identify but... and with the amount of dead orcs on the battlefield, it's growing harder to see where our dead is and where the enemy dead is."

The voices shocked him from his brief return to mourning. Dwalin and Ori were passing by, the warrior walking a tad faster than the scribe who had to occasionally match his strides to stay up at his side. Other dwarves moved by them but no one stopped to ask them a single question. He watched them cautiously, worried they'd see him if he tried anymore.

But they passed on, words dissolving into the air until he could no longer hear them or understand them. This was how much of the day passed. Dwarves he knew and many he did not passed by, the hobbit unseen even though he did not wear his ring. 

Eventually it did become too much and he stood up, preparing to make a trek slowly up toward where many of the Men and Dwarves had begun shifting their work up toward and inside Erebor. Bilbo pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, like a cloak for it was made for Men and dwarfed him in comparison. As he took a step, a surprised noise came from above him and his head shot up to blink in surprise at the figure before him. Well, figure _s_. 

A group of Elves stood before him, probably a patrolling group through Dale. The head of them looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on why she did. Her hair fell long down her back, but unlike her companions it was colored red. She held a bow at her side, similar to her companions though a few of them had theirs ointed at him. Bilbo squeaked, taking a step back.

" _Daro_ ," she said, holding a hand up to the archers. Each of them fell back, dropping their bows. Slowly, the female elf approached him. "Hello," the elf easily slid into Westron, though Bilbo could have deciphered some of her words if she'd spoken in Sindarin. Belladonna  _had_  taught him some of the language. "I am Tauriel. What are you doing out here?"

Though her name didn't help him much, her serene and calm expression made him feel slightly better. 

"Bilbo Baggins," he said, attempting a tired smile at her. It failed, likely coming out pained. Not even then could he hold his head high, try to appear happy in front of strangers. His name as answer instead of the actual reason he was huddled out in Dale on his own threw the company of elves off. Tauriel frowned. 

"Bilbo?" She stood up slowly, offering her hand to him when she'd stood up fully. "Prince Kíli has been looking all over for you. He said you were small, that you might be missed among others, but I did not think you were so! My little friend, please come with me."

Though he stared at her in minor amazement, Bilbo did take her hand and she held his hand lightly until he was safely inside the ranks of the Elves. They surrounded him, hiding the hobbit from any eyes that might be looking. Their intent seemed to be that of delivering him safely into the halls of Erebor, perhaps even to Kíli. That struck another thought in his mind.

"Kíli is alive?" He had to ask the question to no one in particular, for he could not see Tauriel through the others. After a moment, she fell inside their ranks and smiled down at him. 

"Yes. He survived the battle, with the aid of the Elves. As did Prince Fíli. They are yet recovering, but both were greatly concerned when you did not turn up in a healer's tent," Tauriel held her hands carefully in front of her, though her eyes were looking over the heads of her companions. What she was searching for, he did not know but it mattered little to Bilbo. Even seeing the princes was going to hurt. How could he look at either of them?

She seemed to sense his distress then. "Do not worry, my small friend. We are doing our best to take care of everyone, upon request of both princes. King Thranduil refuses to help, and Legolas has similar feelings regarding the subject, but I would not take it for what it appears to be. Legolas will join our side soon."

Bilbo stayed quiet, but he cast his eyes up. The faces of the elves were not any different, though Tauriel's lips had widened into a fuller smile. He got it then, as Tauriel nodded to something one of the elves asked. Kíli had talked excitedly about a pretty red-haired elf, until he'd been shushed by Thorin. No name had been mentioned, but no way this wasn't the elf he'd been praising about to Bilbo. The hobbit hadn't minded, for he'd grown up on tales of Elves. 

Erebor rose above him, his last memories of being there were an ache, full of fear and hurt and it forced him into falling out of the ranks. No one but Tauriel noticed, when she did the elves all stopped and sent her confused looks. She murmured something in Sindarin to them and then stood by his side while the rest of her company headed back down into Dale.

"Are you alright?" 

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm," Bilbo fidgeted, hands fisting in the blanket. He tried not to look at the gate, but it did drag his attention back. His heart hurt, like it was truly breaking. He thought it might be. Shakily, he lowered his gaze to the stairs in front of them. "Fine. Perfectly good."

"I will not take you inside the mountain, Master Baggins, if this is your reaction to the  _outside_ ," Tauriel's eyes narrowed as she spoke, followed by one of her hands softly on his shoulder. Bilbo flinched back. "I have orders, but I will defy them if you do not wish to enter."

"No!" He shouted and she dropped her hand from his shoulder in surprise. Then Bilbo felt guilty, shrinking into himself. "Sorry, I..."

But her expression had softened. It caused him to drop words in surprise. "It is fine. If you insist you are fine, then I cannot say against you. Prince Kíli and Fíli both would like to see you, if you can handle that."

Once he nodded, she cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. This time, he did not shrink away and after a moment, they walked together up inside the mountain. Inside Erebor, everything was more a bustle than Dale. However, only Dwarves could be seen inside the halls. Any Man that had come up was in the outside courts, working on removing rubble. Bilbo shrunk more into the blanket-cloak, though Tauriel did not appear daunted by the amount of dwarves moving about. Even when they sent her glares or frowning looks, the elf held her head high and continued on. 

The room that they stopped in front of had a curtain drafted over the archway. Tauriel let go of his shoulder then, pushing the curtain up and smiling warmly at whoever was inside the room. In curiosity, Bilbo peeked into the room. Kíli and Fíli, among a few other dwarves, were perched together on a makeshift bed. Kíli beamed at Tauriel, waving excitedly at her. 

Attention on her was short-lived however, as both princes spotted Bilbo at the same time. Kíli let out a joyous cry, and though Fíli was quieter than his brother, the hobbit still felt rather embarrassed by their general excited nature at seeing him. While the younger prince did not get up, Fíli did and he embraced Bilbo tightly. And he could handle that. The blonde looked nothing like his uncle; while Kíli's darker hair did reflect more of Thorin. After a moment of tensing, he relaxed into the hugging and Fíli said something in Khuzdul, likely to Kíli or another dwarf. 

Neither of his first impressions of the princes had been that great (or any of the dwarves for that matter), and while the older prince patted his back Bilbo thought of swords being dropped into his hand and words about them just being sharpened, of a dwarfling wiping his feet off on Belladonna's belongings. It was an odd, sudden maneuver, but the hobbit found himself sat down next to Kíli and he wasn't quite sure how he got there. The other dwarf patted at his shoulder, then secured the blanket Bilbo had draped himself in. Everything grew quiet then, the only noise the sound of breathing from the various bodies around them. Fíli seated himself on Bilbo's other side, looping an arm around his shoulder and over Kíli's. Eventually, he bowed his head and sagged into them due to exhaustion. A hand patted cautiously at his hair but he could not find it in him to swat it away.

"We thought we'd lost you," Kíli said quietly. 

When he looked up, Tauriel had moved inside the room but not any closer than that. She leaned up against the archway, a hand on her hip and the other flexed as if she were ready to whip out her bow or dagger at any moment. Despite their victory, safety was not yet secured.

At the thought of being stuck inside Erebor, watched by others like a hawk, Bilbo lowered his gaze again. Inside the mountain, without Thorin. He could hear Kíli and Fíli conversing quickly and quietly in their language, both their tones turned serious. That was odd, for the younger of the two had always been loose and didn't seem like one for seriousness. All of it came crashing down harder on him then, for if they were so happy they could not know that Thorin was dead. Sobs broke through his lips and as he buried his eyes into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and attempting to rid the tears that would run down his face.

Both the princes huddled over him, until Bilbo curled up in one of their laps though he could not tell who he no longer cared besides the comfort. A hush fell again, and whoever he'd settled on ran a comforting hand over his head and back. 

By the time anyone found it in them to say anything, he'd fallen asleep and was not present for most of the conversation that happened there. In fact the only two awake were Tauriel and Fíli, the Elf-maiden keeping a keen eye on the entrance of the room while the dwarrow sat next to his brother and the hobbit. Bilbo had curled into Kíli's lap originally, they'd been too afraid of moving him and then Kíli had fallen asleep, so the two were sprawled across each other. 

"What news do you have from Mirkwood?" Fíli broke the silence. He caught Tauriel's eye as she turned, though her hands stayed where they were. 

"Thranduil will not come, nor will he send any help. What we have right now is the elves that were willing follow my orders, but unfortunately, it is not enough to take care of all the wounded," Tauriel lowered her voice as footfalls came close to the archway. "Legolas will likely eventually jOin me, even if reluctantly. With him, we may have more sway over some of the elves."

"But not soon enough," Fíli frowned into his hands. 

"No. I have been doing what I can. For now, our efforts will be on healing the more important dwarves. I have a group of healers attending Thorin, though they are unnerved by the dwarf who refuses to let him alone?"

"Óin. It's fine, tell them that," Fíli shifted, bringing a hand down and running it over his brother's hair. "Do... do you know how it's looking for our uncle?"

"They have said he will make it, at least through his wounds. But none of them are sure that he will wake again. Once we've done what we can, it's all up in the air," Tauriel kept her voice quiet, until the footfalls left the archway alone. Then, slowly, she turned her body fully and knelt down next to the bed, one of her hands cupping Kíli's. Her voice quiet still. "I want to thank you. Whether this is your brother's influence or not, accepting the help of my people means a great deal."

The young heir gave a shrug, dropping his hand from Kíli's head. "You saved him. And I haven't actually experienced it, but our mother told us tales of great love." Tauriel looked over at him in surprise. "Uncle Thorin looks at Bilbo kinda how Kíli looks at you. It's pretty unnerving, because I'd thought I'd be the one to find my One first but..."

For a while, she just let out a few breaths in surprise before nodding. "Regardless. If we could keep an alliance between our people, it would be a good thing."

Most of the night passed by then, with quiet talk between the two. Though Tauriel understood there would be no great friendship between them, she could see that he was willing to help make amends, even if for his brother's sake. Part of her hoped that it had come from a decision that it was time for their people's hate to be over. When she shivered, in the cold of Erebor's night for it would take quite a while until the furnaces warmed the entire mountain daily, Fíli draped his coat over her and said nothing. She did not say anything in question. 

Then, as if on cue, Kíli stirred awake and smiled sleepily at her, fingers curling around hers. Tauriel relaxed, smiling back at him and ignoring that Fíli sat just by them. But the dwarf did not, eyes opening more before he sat up enough, not enough to disturb Bilbo but enough to get a look at his brother.

"How's uncle?" Unbeknownst to them, Kíli's fidgeting _had_ disturbed the sleeping hobbit and he too stirred awake, but much slower. He caught Kíli's words, and stopped from stretching out, listening quietly for the responses. 

"I assigned a group to heal and look after him. The head of the group told me that he will live, but they have no idea if he will wake." Tauriel's voice.

"We can go visit him in the morning, if you want. Before I have to start on King duties." Fíli's voice echoed after hers, quieter but firmer. Bilbo thoughts were already panicking, running into each other. Were their words true? It could not be... he'd watched Thorin die with his own eyes! He had cried his heart out at losing someone he never even had the chance to have. His heart thumped, it felt so loud that they might discover he was awake but their conversation continued in quiet tones.

Oh. Oh, how could he lay here and pretend to be asleep when somewhere, Thorin lay, alive yet not awake?

When he jumped up and fumbled out of the bed, onto his face, both Kíli and Fíli screeched in surprise and Tauriel let out a surprised noise before she ducked down to help him back onto his feet. While he shook against her, the elf sent a confused look to the princes who responded with identical frowns. What were they supposed to do with a shaking hobbit?

"Bilbo," Kíli started though when Bilbo turned abruptly in Tauriel's arms, he fell silent.

"Thorin. I need to," he fumbled over words, fingers digging into Tauriel's arm. "I need to see him, please. If he's alive, I couldn't..." His eyes teared up and he sagged against her then, but she held him up and looked helplessly over at the dwarves.

"I," Fíli said, then frowned and planted his face in his hands. He'd seen the way his uncle looked at Bilbo, even after he'd banished the hobbit from setting foot in Erebor. The looks on his face had been more pained, traced with guilt but at the time he'd been taken over too far with Dragon-sickness to do anything else. On occasion, before they'd fallen into this, he'd thought he had caught a similar look on their thief's face when he thought no one was watching him. "It wouldn't hurt, would it?"

And that was how, after a nod from Tauriel, the group made their way down through the halls of Erebor.

Both Bilbo and Tauriel made no noise, for hobbits and elves were races that could pass unheard and unseen as they chose. However, Kíli and Fíli both made plenty of noise for all four, especially as the younger of the two had to lean heavily on his brother as they traversed through Erebor. Hush fell over the halls yet, as any residents of the newly inhabited mountain were long asleep as night pulled on. The only one of the group that knew the way was Tauriel, for she had gone back and forth between the small make-shift room and the room that held Thorin. She led their group, Bilbo tucked against her side while Fíli hurried along behind her as fast he could with a limping, clinging brother. 

They reached the room, and though Tauriel did not know it they were within the royal halls where once those of the Durin line had resided, and she paused outside of the door. Two elves guarded the door, eyes alert and they bowed slightly to her as she approached. 

Holding up a hand, Tauriel asked that Kíli and Fíli stayed behind. As she thought he would, Kíli began to protest but she shook her head at him. " _Meleth_ ," she uttered, pressing a hand to his face. "I will be right back, it would be better if we did not interrupt anything, left him here to do what he must." 

"I don't understand," he said quietly, brow creasing. 

"Bilbo is in mourning," Tauriel replied, quietly and let her hand drop from his face. Said hobbit stood still in front of the two elves guarding the doors, though they kept glancing down at him in a nervous way. "It is wise to leave the mourning alone where they can freely grieve without causing trouble. You must understand this."

At that, his face saddened and he looked over to Bilbo too. She nodded slowly, smiling before moving back over to Bilbo and leading him inside the room. No elves lingered there. It was empty, but for the bed and for the old dwarf slumped over in a chair near the bed. Now she knew he was Óin, a great healer by Dwarvish standards so she would not have him leave either. Before she could do anything else but register who was there, Bilbo had left her side and knelt by the bed. He bowed his head over onto the bed, shoulders shaking and slowly Tauriel left the room. When she was out, she would murmur a word or two to the elves and then usher Kíli and Fíli back to their room with her. 

No disturbance would come into the room that night. 

Bilbo knelt by the bed, hands scrunched up in the covers. Thorin lay on top of all of the covers, but one sheet that covered his body carefully. One of his hands had been placed upon his chest, while the other arm straightened out against his side. If it were possible to ignore the beaten state of the King, he did simply look like he was resting. The hobbit took comfort in that, pretending for a moment that he'd snuck into the chambers of his sleeping love.

But then, that hurt him more and he ducked his head against the covers to hide any tears that might have found their way out. Hobbits were known well for their stubbornness (Bilbo had a good amount of references for that claim, his cousin Lobelia topping off the list) and he had resolved to stay here, by Thorin's side until he woke. So when he fell asleep, still leaning against the bed on his knees and head rested on top of folded arms, the pain and ache in his body would be excused in his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daro - stop, halt  
> Meleth - love
> 
> I'll do my best to make sure all translations are down here. I don't plan on using full phrases since I'm not very familiar with Sindarin or Khuzdul so.


	2. The King Awoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter titling is hard. i have ONE planned chapter title tbh 
> 
> thanks to all the kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc! <3 enjoy this chapter (its shorter than i planned so expect another update very soon, probably a longer one as well)

Thorin woke in a panic. To put it simply, he had not expected to wake up for he had seen the halls of his fathers and had been in the midst of a conversation with his mother when everything had gone dark. Nothing was more terrifying than his moments spent in the dark, with no one and nothing but his thoughts. It had felt like an entirety, with nowhere to go. But just as he had started to lose hope of ever seeing anything, anyone, again, there'd been quite a bright flash of light that had left him reeling and choking on air he hadn't been expecting. He thrashed in surprise, shoving off the thin cover that had been over him.

"Ah, lad, calm down," he  _knew_  that voice but could not place it and he twisted, in an attempt to prop himself up. When he tried, a shooting pain ran through his ribs and his arm gave out near instantly. A tutting noise came from above him. Pain swarmed his vision and when it cleared, Óin frowned at him while he pushed the King down back onto the bed. "Ye might be awake and healin', but yer not ready to be up and movin' around."

"I'm," Thorin caught his breath, eyes widening in shock. "I'm alive?"

"Aye!" Óin cast him a concerned look, before checking the bandages that wrapped his chest. Whatever he saw or didn't, the elder dwarf leaned back with a satisfied look. "I can give ye a minute to catch your bearings, adjust perhaps. But Lady Dís demanded she be sent for when ye woke. She'll probably murder me if she finds out I kept her from immediately seeing ye."

"She's here?" A nod, though not much else was given in response. "So we have kept Erebor safe. Is restoration happening?" His thoughts were racing now, picking up only on the ones that took immediate interest. Near all of them were concerning the mountain and he shoved the rest away for the moment. "What do you know?"

"Not much," he replied, before gesturing at Thorin. "I didn't dare leave ye, my King, much more than I had to. Any moment ye could wake and there would be problems if ye did more thrashing than you just did. All I do know is that dwarves have begun restoring Erebor, recovering what they can that hadn't been destroyed by the dragon. Ye'd have better response talking to someone who's been outta this room." 

But that seemed to be enough for him, at least as far as the other dwarf could tell. Thorin closed his eyes for a few minutes, resting inside his thoughts. If they had begun restoration without little trouble, things concerning that were easily dropped to the bottom of his list now. His thoughts traveled then to his Company. Óin was alive, and he had not seen anyone but Fíli and Kíli fall to the enemy's blows. At the thought of his sister-sons, having watched them fall before him in protection, his heart ached and he squeezed his eyes tighter. But it was only the two of them that were guaranteed fallen, and a slight possibility the boys had not been slain lived on. Besides that, he knew Bilbo alive. No doubt, though, that the hobbit had already left for the Shire. And he could not blame him for that, not in the least now that he had his own home back. 

"I suppose we should send for my sister, then," Thorin began, opening his eyes back up but keeping them on the ceiling. Stone stared back at him, carefully carved and smoothed, for it was the type that only ran through the royal halls and bedrooms. Enough to encourage him to face his sister. 

That was how he found Ori alive, for moments later the scribe's head poked around the door, eyes widening into saucers at the awoken King. Then, he'd gone running off to find the princess and bring her back, excitement shouting in his expression. 

-

Having escaped the watchful eye of one stubborn female dwarf (who had taken it upon herself to watch the hobbit like it was her only duty), Bilbo crept along the halls quietly. If he was honest with himself, and he was being quite honest in that moment, the hobbit was dead-tired, simply dozing off on his feet seemed nearly reasonable. Still he was a creature of habit and leaning on the edge of a bed sounded more comfortable than sleeping on foot. 

Really, in the past weeks Óin had never said anything to him about it, neither the elves that guarded the door to the King's chambers. A nap by Thorin's side would not be bad; it usually left him feeling more awake than the nights he spent squeezed in between Kíli and Fíli. 

But his thoughts were short-lived as a red-headed blur came shooting at him, tumbling into him and then the both of them were sprawled on the ground. Bilbo grumbled as he got back to his feet, ready to shoot a glare the way of whoever had ran straight into him but it faltered. As he dusted off his knees, Ori beamed at the hobbit in excitement. 

"Bilbo!" 

"What are you doing, running around so recklessly?" Bilbo still frowned, but he couldn't hold too much anger with the young dwarf. 

"Thorin's awake! Now, 'scuse me, gotta go tell Lady Dís," Ori said all of his words quickly, starting off again though at less of a streaking pace. He nearly shouted 'She's in the library' after him, but thought better of it for surely Dís had already discovered him gone. She wouldn't linger with him missing, unfortunately. 

Bilbo hurried along then, clutching at himself as he approached the halls that would have once housed the line of Durin (at least from what Dís had told him). The largest chambers, the King's, had been the ones they'd brought Thorin into and as such, were guarded by a pair of elves ordered there by Tauriel. Neither of them gave him more than a glance out of the corner of an eye, for he had constantly made his way from and to the chambers on a regular basis. With relief, he snuck inside the room. It didn't feel quite right just yet to immediately spring on Thorin. 

As he settled himself in the shadows of one of the corners, he listened for what Thorin was talking about. The King had been propped up with pillows, though he did not look much different than he had in the past days as besides much more color in his face and actually being awake, he still was bruised and battered. Waking didn't change that. 

Currently, the two dwarves discussed elves and said king did not look pleased to learn about their presence inside Erebor. Bilbo felt bad about that, for it'd been on his part that Fíli had considered being diplomatic as possible with them and let what elves would help. Regardless, both Tauriel and Kíli had been pleased at the acting king's decision. No one thought of Thorin in that moment, attempting to keep their people from dying and in peace, but it was no surprise that he would not like it. How long the Elves stayed from this point was up in the air.

Bilbo guessed it would not be for very long. He crept forward, standing on the other side of the bed and tucked his hands within his sleeves. Quiet as a mouse, Thorin did not notice him where he stood and he chewed on his lip as he tried to figure out what do now.

The door opened then, and he shifted in surprise as there stood Dís. Thorin hadn't turned his head yet, caught up in huffing about the mere mention of an Elf healing him or any of his people, especially his sister-sons.

Thorin didn't need to look to know his sister had arrived, for she made enough of an entrance for herself by shoving the door open. It closed with a click, leaving them back in the quiet of the room. Óin had been in the midst of explaining that without the elves there would be little hope for many of the dwarves, including Thorin. That was more important than his sister just this moment; he'd certainly give her all the attention she wanted in a few moments. 

"Thorin," she said finally, and he closed his eyes for a moment before turning to look at his sister. Just in front of the door, Thorin had not thought the day would come that he'd see his sister dressed in finery as she was now. No, he'd always been dreaming of seeing his family back in the proper clothing, the proper way of a Durin and it was a slight shock to see her in them now. She'd been too young at the time, to remember much of Erebor and had been instantly stripped of her clothes for something safer. It'd been upon their father's wishes that he, Frenin and Dís be dressed down for safety. 

"Dís," he started but he never did get the rest of his words out. In fact, he did not quite register what had happened until he was reeling on the bed and he heard a shocked noise from around him. His head pounded, more specifically, his jaw ached when he realized why. His sister had punched him, square in the jaw. 

Óin reacted faster. "Lady Dís," he said with a shake of his head. "I understand ye are upset, but if ye could refrain from beating your brother back to death?" 

A huff had been the only response to that, and then after a few nods from Óin, the dwarf had left the siblings together in the deathly quiet room. Thorin rubbed his jaw, glaring up at his sister as she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled back at him. When he no longer felt like yelling at her, he dropped his hand and let out a sigh.

"What was that for?" Snapped, but with less anger than he'd felt.

"You! Thorin Oakenshield," Dís snarled then, dropping her knees onto the bed and leaning forward to hold a glare with him. They'd many contests of staring when she was younger, back when he'd had less to worry about and could indulge his sister with simple things. It did not strain him to glare back. When he didn't back down, her hand shot out and curled around his shirt, tugging. "You took my sons from me; they could have died at any point in this journey! And now I hear that you left them in Laketown, where the dragon attacked! What would have you done if they had been killed there? Would you have even cared? Or are you too concerned with taking back Erebor to not see that Kíli almost died?" As she talked, his sister voice rose until she yelled in his face. But she was right. Oh, he'd simply been too foolish, so stricken to taking back Erebor that he'd never even thought of how bad Kíli had been. He winced, his face dropping. As he did, she let go of him and he slumped more, covering his face with one of his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said, earnestly but when Dís did not reply he frowned. " _Dís_."

"I will not accept an apology from you, before you apologize to Fíli and Kíli. Fíli has been looking after Erebor and our people with my aid, once I arrived. Despite your selfish tendencies, they love you dearly," he relaxed slightly when her voice softened, but now his thoughts were struggling on his nephews. He was relieved they were alive and well, and Fíli had gone right into taking care of his people! Pride might have swelled in him if he did not feel guilty. He slumped back into the pillows, trying to relax from the pain. He didn't see her turn around, but he heard her.

"Then send them," he said. "I didn't," Thorin swallowed, placing a hand on his forehead. "I did not even think of it. When I did it, Dís, I did not realize what was happening."

"You know now, so change it!" Her voice had grown angry again, but he nodded slowly. After rubbing his face a few times, he dragged himself up in the pillows. It hurt, but for the moment he could endure. He needed to talk with his nephews, figure out what had happened and apologize, look to the future  _then_. 

Then, a noise broke his thoughts up and he whipped his head toward it. 

Bilbo.  _Bilbo_.

The Hobbit stood there, caught like he'd been snooping around where he shouldn't have. But for a short minute, Thorin could but revel in the fact that he had stayed here, was there in front of him and though perhaps looking a bit small, not worse for wear than the rest of them. 

But it didn't take long for him to catch up with things he had done, things he had thought would be fine to leave in death so long as he promised the hobbit he could see clearer then. He had, he had but now when he thought of his terrible actions he couldn't bear it and his face went from bearing pain to looking utterly guilty. His One had stayed, despite what had happened. Why?

Bilbo had a similar look on his face, one of hurt that took over his whole face and left nothing else to be seen. He could not speak for fear of making things any worse than they were. He'd been in the mindset he'd never see his love again, content to be dead and hope that the hobbit had found life happier than in Thorin's last moments. His stomach clenched painfully. 

Without a word, Bilbo broke the eye contact and turned on his heels quickly, pushing past Dís in a flurry and disappeared from the room as quick as he could. Thorn's sister looked altogether shell-shocked. 

"What," she started but he interrupted her and ordered her out of the room. 


	3. Council in Erebor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i expected to write parts of this yesterday but i fell short on time and then the thing that was supposed to take up my day today was cancelled sooo
> 
> things HAPPEN. (Thranduil's character is not the same in the movie as it is in the book, so forgive me but I wanted to mix bits and pieces of him for this, also bookwise Bard comes for treasure because gold was taken from Dale, although in the movie it looks like he's going to come for it since Thorin said he'd be giving them gold) this is a double update so expect the second half of this update later today

There was far too much to be done, far too much to catch up on for Thorin to even think of sleeping but he found himself exhausted despite not having been awake for the past weeks. It'd been written off that he wasn't _resting_ and his body had been coping and healing, not giving much rest for his body to have. That had not been a comforting thought, but it had been one that seemed the most likely for the time being. He needn't worry about why he felt sluggish and exhausted. His focus was on gathering what had happened, what was happening and what plans had been drafted for the future.

But calling some sort of council together was not an easy task. He'd tried for Dwalin or Balin, but both of his cousins had waved him off and said that it was better to ask Fíli. Apparently, they had much to do and dealing with the awoken King did not top their list. Which had flustered Thorin, but he had calmed himself with reasoning that they were restoring Erebor.

At least he hoped that. 

None of the other dwarves gave him much more than a word, but he'd learned a few things from Ori and Bofur, in their excitement to talk on about the on-goings. Fíli had taken on role of temporary king well, and with Dís by his side, things concerning Erebor were going quite well! The Men had no problem with working on Dale, for Bard had seemed glad to be allowed to start restoration there. And the Elves? Well, the ones that were helping never caught sight of the King for they rarely went by. As for the rest of his people, the dwarves from the Blue Mountains were arriving in waves now, as winter came hard it would slow but it sounded as if Erebor would be packed when spring swung in.

Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to think clearly. With his exhaustion, it had become hard to sort all of his thoughts and for many reasons, he could not focus on calling upon his sister-sons. If he was calling upon Fíli, Kíli would come whether or not he requested. And Dís' words echoed in his mind. Talking with both of them would be easier, and likely a smarter move than confronting one without the other. 

His heart skipped slightly when he thought of Bilbo, however. Why had he run out? Well, he had a few ideas about why but he had thought that his apology, his resentment at the end, would have cleared some things between them. It had not, but he could do little about it at the moment and as much as it caused him ache in his heart, it would have to wait. 

An hour later, Thorin sat propped up with pillows again. He waited, quietly as he thought of what to say upon the arrival of his sister. This would be the second time he saw her since he'd woken, and any words to appease her needed to be said before he learned of the current state of affairs. 

The door opened slowly, and his sister peered around it before she stepped inside and closed it softly behind her. Dís' face held itself in a serene, calmed expression but her lips were tight. He also caught the way her braids seemed mussed, the slight bags under her eyes as if she had not slept. But more important, the princess no longer dressed in finery but in clothes that she'd worn in Ered Luin. Had this not been his sister, it might have bothered him but Thorin did understand why she dressed such. Such casual attire meant more intimate matters and more so it signified that Dís was not as mad as she had appeared during their reunion.

It lifted some weight off his shoulders but not nearly enough to relax him.

"I would like to," Thorin started but stopped, watching as his sister sat down on the edge of his bed. "Sister?"

"I believe I acted beyond rash when you awoke. I am apologizing for socking you in the jaw, dear brother, but for not being upset about my sons," she said quietly, smoothing her hands over the front of her dress. Thorin relaxed back against the pillows in surprise. "They're eager to see you; I thought it better to warn you before they come in."

"Thank you," he stared at his sister in surprise, when she smiled softer and then turned her head toward the door. A moment later, after she called out her sons' names, the door crashed open and Thorin was lost in a tangle of limbs of two dwarflings who screeched happily. He assumed it was Kíli, until he caught a flash of blonde braids amongst the darker hair. His surprise was not unreasonable, for Fíli had always been more composed of the two brothers and his tackling of his uncle with his little brother had not been quite expected. Still, the King under the Mountain embraced his nephews in surprise until they let go and fell back into chairs. "Hello," he said finally, watching his sister out of the corner of his eye. She merely looked amused at her sons' antics. 

"Uncle!" Kíli beamed excitedly, clapping his hands together. "We're so glad you're awake!"

Beside him, Fíli smiled widely in agreement. It was then that Thorin took in what he had not noticed before in their excitement. For instance, his heir's left arm was in a sling, though besides that nothing about him said he'd been otherwise injured. He had a strained look to him, in his eyes, as if he had not slept at all and that was deeply concerning. The younger of the two fared better, Kíli looked like he slept longer than he needed and his hair, it was actually braided for once, but there were bandages wound around the leg that he'd been shot in. Taking in their appearances together, the tiredness in Dís and Fíli and the injuries on the boys, something dawned on him. Erebor was not going to be as easy to have under control now.

He wanted to immediately address issues regarding what had happened in the time he'd been unconscious but first things were first, and the top of his list was making a rough apology to his nephews.

"Fíli, Kíli," Thorin said their names quieter than he intended, more tender. Beside him, Dís shifted though he did not look at his sister he had a feeling she was preparing herself for his words. Both the boys looked at him, attention snagged. "I would like to apologize to both of you. While I do not regret my actions, I think my words when I left you in Laketown were harsher than intended," he directed his gaze and words toward Kíli. "I am more than gratified that you are alive, when you and Fíli returned to the mountain, it was one of the happiest moments of my life. However, I would not change any of my actions," Thorin held up a hand when Fíli looked about to say something. "You are both alive, well, and I do not like to think what may have happened had I brought you into the mountain while Smaug was alive."

_And I must_ , he thought, _thank Bard for keeping you safe, even if his intent was not that_.

The blonde heir looked ready to say something again, but his brother interrupted with a smile. "It's alright, Uncle! I understand, I didn't then completely, but you are right. We are all alive and safe now!"

After a moment, the tension in the room seemed to relax, Fíli watching his uncle carefully before smiling again and patting his brother on the back before glancing over at his mother. Dís stood up slowly from her perch on the bed, running her hands over her dress again. A nervous habit from her childhood and Thorin noted it before she cleared her throat. 

"While I would much prefer a meeting of family to be all this is, unfortunately, now that you are awake we are required to hand over the rule to you and," she talked soft, but strode until she stood behind her sons, one hand on each of their shoulders. This was Thorin's family, what he had left and he felt pride at them. "I do think you would desire to be caught up as quick as can be." It was an agreeable notion, and when he nodded, she inclined her head to Fíli. He sat up straighter when his sister-son stood up.

"Initially, we thought you dead, Uncle," he looked nervous, though his voice betrayed none of this. "We were led to believe this for a few hours, for no one had yet to inform us of your condition and you had not come looking for us. Kíli and I were badly injured; there was little our healers could do. I know you will not be happy with my decision, but when I woke and learned what had saved us, I was not apt to refuse the source right away." Fíli tugged at one of the sides of his moustache, yet another habit that betrayed nervous behavior. Thorin wanted to urge him to the point. "Elves are remarkably incredible healers, with the right herbs and such."

His jaw fell slack, eyes widened. Elves? He'd known that they'd been healing the wounded, doing what they could, but he'd thought it had been on someone else’s word not on his own kin. 

"It was really my idea," Kíli blundered in before anyone could stop him. "See, Tauriel had healed me back in Laketown, from the poison and I persuaded Fíli into letting her gather up elves that would listen to her. The Elves had many medical supplies with them, so they had much to work with and they saved us. And you."

Thorin tried breathing calmly, but it was not working. Who was Tauriel? An Elf, but why did his nephew care so? 

"But it's not important," Fíli cut back in. It was, it was fairly important but his nephew seemed keen on pushing past the issue and onto what else had happened. "We could argue about this until the moon came up. After that, the whole Company agreed that it would be best if I acted as King until we knew more about your condition. One of my first acts was to confirm a sort of alliance with the Men, but it has not gone well," he rubbed at his eyes then. "As well, I wished to strike something up with the Mirkwood Elves, but their King refused. The help we have from them right now is from Tauriel, a Captain of his guard."

Thorin spoke then, cautiously. Many questions swirled on his tongue, but few of them would be answered he knew. "What of the Men, then? What are they doing?"

"Bard requested that he be allowed restoration of Dale, as his ancestor once was the Lord of Dale. I agreed that restoring the city would be a wise move. But we are still at a hold. When he requested that, I asked in return that he send help to our people," Fíli's face darkened. "Perhaps you were not informed or you do not remember, but in Smaug's attack of Lake-town, it was destroyed and many of the Men died not only from that but from sickness in the beginning of the winter. He could offer no help and he has yet to do much else but demand the promised share."

At that, a frown crossed onto his sister's face. Though Thorin did not know it, she had yet to be informed of all the happenings involving the Arkenstone. 

"As far as we can, we will continue to work on restoring Erebor. I cannot say much else for it, however. When mother arrived, we delegated more things to others, to take the stress off," and at those words, Thorin frowned. Now the sleepless look on their faces made sense, in accordance with Kíli's well-rested look. 

He swallowed.

"And of the Arkenstone?" It was a dangerous question to be asked and the three in front of him seemed to droop in response. 

"Bard has it yet, he will not give it up but for exchange of gold." A pause. "Bilbo insists that he would be willing to let his share of the treasure take place, to be given to Bard for the Arkenstone in our possession."

Thorin nodded slightly, with a sigh. That had been the man's insistence, and Bilbo had seemed fine to part with what gold had been promised if it meant creating peace between them. It had not but made things worse and in his anger, Thorin had nearly tossed his beloved over the gate. 

His heart thumped, aching as he thought over his foolish actions. 

In that time, Dís had left her sons and sat back down by his side, petting a hand over his hair. It seemed an unspoken agreement or signal, but then the two had slowly left, Kíli leaning on Fíli as they disappeared out of the room. Once again left with his sister, Thorin dropped his shoulders and let out a shuttering breath. 

"I did not expect to find my One at all," he said finally, when she had stopped tugging her fingers through his hair. "And to find him outside of our people..."

"Hush," she said, frowning down at her brother. "I would not shame you, Thorin. You are my brother and for you to find your One, whoever it may be, I could not care more than that. You watched me see my One for the first time and I see the way you look at the hobbit. Do not try to fool me. I would never try to deprive you of the pleasure of having your One."

"You are truly strange, Dís," Thorin cast her a look as she shifted. "Not many would ignore the blatant act against tradition to find him outside of us. And to," he looked down then, eyes roaming over the blankets. "To wish to court him."

"If you are looking for a blessing," she looked quite amused, eyes lighting up as her older brother sighed into hands. "I would give it to you, though I'm not sure how traditional it is for me to do such. You are the eldest of the Durin line here, brother, and I do not believe you need anyone's word but his and yours!"

"Oh," he huffed at her, moving one of hands to push Dís over. She let out a laugh, catching herself before she fell off the edge of the bed. "Never mind, you are absolutely the worst sister."

Neither said anymore, but she doubled over and laughed into his side until eventually a laugh burst from Thorin's lips as well. Despite the pain that it caused him, it had been a while since he'd seen his sister and laughing with her as if nothing was wrong felt like a relief. Only he could hope that Kíli and Fíli had truly left on their mother's word for hearing their uncle and mother giggle like dwarflings would be far more embarrassing. 

Still, he could not see it fit giggling in bed with his younger sister when there were now issues he needed to immediately deal with. Clearing his throat, he pushed Dís away from him.

"I suppose that I should call a council with Bard," Thorin said, when she had sobered up and sat quietly next to him.  Slowly, he added, "And with Thranduil, if he finds it within him to attend such a meeting."

Surprisingly, Dís gave a firm nod. "Aye, I shall send word to both of them, then. For now, you rest and I shall try for meetings with the rest of your Company. I'm sure they are all eager to see their King again."

-

It was a week or so later that the makeshift council would happen. In that time, Thorin had recovered enough for him to be on his feet and moving about the mountain. Fíli nearly was always by his side, supporting his uncle and Kíli never far behind them with his mother. This had become a regular sight, for the King to wander by with his heir and for the other members of the Durin line trailing behind. 

As well in this time, Thorin had only seen Bilbo once more, at a private dinner that Dís had pulled together for the Company. He'd sat near Balin and Bofur, close to Thorin but not immediately at Thorin's side like he once might have. Thorin had said nothing but it made him saddened, for here his love was and yet neither of them interacted with each other. He had truly hurt Bilbo, then, for the hobbit could not forgive him. This was the only explanation that Thorin could link up to. 

Now, they approached the room that the council would be held in but were stopped by Bofur and Bombur, who were talking quietly in the halls outside the room. The King straightened up, calling out to the two. 

"Ah," Bofur turned slightly, and then bowed in unison with his brother. "My King. Glad to see ye are still well." Dís was upon the brothers before Thorin could utter a greeting in return, but her smile was wide as they bowed to her as well. "And Lady Dís," Bofur added, smiling at her as she nodded. "We were just thinking of serving something to yer guests."

"That is all well, Bofur, but I think for now it would be best to let them alone. This council is quite important and I believe it should start as soon as it can," she looked over at Thorin, who nodded in agreement. The sooner they had things figured out, the better for everyone involved. 

"Aye, suppose that is a good idea," he said, nodding at his brother before beaming at Thorin and Dís. "On your way then, my King," Bofur watched as he brushed by, though there was a scolding in his Thorin's eyes. Much of the Company had been uneasy about calling him by his name, and many of them still fell into calling him 'my King'. The other dwarf inclined his head toward the princess. "Bilbo has since been eating quite regularly, but not as a hobbit would. It’s still a relief.”

“Thank you,” Dís breathed, before following her brother inside the council room. He'd caught their words, but in confusion. Had Bilbo not been eating as he should have? Why the change now, why as it important to his sister? He watched her but she showed no sign of it and he turned to address the two men within the room but fell back in surprise.

Thranduil had his hands folded in front of him on the table, though he looked like he would desire to be anywhere else but there and it showed fully on his face. To his right, Bard shifted in the seat and inclined his head slight to the Dwarf King. Though they were not on good terms, it was polite to regard each other as such but Thorin was too stricken by the figure on Thranduil's left. Bilbo sat in the chair with his hands plucking nervously at his sleeves. Confusion and guilt poured into his stomach as he looked between the three. He had expected the Man and Elf but not the Hobbit. When he finally turned to look at his sister, she gently placed a hand on his back and pushed him into the remaining seat.

"What," he stated, eyes never leaving the stone-expression on her face.

"While I was informed of the business with the Arkenstone, I do not believe the full story was given and this leads me to be biased to my brother's side. If we wish to all live peacefully by each other, the air needs to be cleared and," she looked around at all of them. "Then perhaps, there may be some talk of a treaty and help."

Thorin should not have been surprised, but he still felt it as he looked at his sister. She handled the situation like it had been something they'd dealt with beforehand. They had never had to council and persuade other peoples to live in peace with them. And to think she acted so calm with an Elf feet from her!

"Thorin," she said and he shifted slightly, raising a brow in question. "I believe this started with you."

" _Me_?" He said, a bit sharply. 

"Yes, you," Dís huffed, crossing her arms and frowning at him. "There is a reason Bard expects part of the treasure within Erebor and I suspect it had to do with something you said."

"Ah," Thorin said, wishing he could retract the statement he'd made before in front of the Men. "Aye. I did. I promised the Men of Laketown prosperity if they gave us help. When Bard came calling for it, saying that he had fell Smaug himself and that part of the horde belonged to Dale, I did not see any reason to give it him, nor did I see that I had responsibility to his men," he looked shamed for a moment, before looking over toward Bard. "It was a result of his possession of the Arkenstone and my anger. He came with it as an offering of exchange, after my initial rejection."

But the man had the Arkenstone and he could care less what was true or not. Briefly, Thorin's eyes rested on Bilbo. The hobbit had sunk into his seat at the mention of the Arkenstone and was looking hard at the table before them. 

"We thought you dead, at first, you must understand," Bard implored, placing a hand on the table. 

Dís cleared her throat and the attention fell back to her. Even Bilbo glanced up, eyes watching her as she strode forward and leaned down next to her brother. "How, Bard of Laketown, did you in fact acquire the Arkenstone?"

"It was given to me," he answered, and then he turned to look at the hobbit. Bilbo did not back down and hide this time, kept his eye contact with Bard. "By Mister Baggins. He offered it as means of bargaining with Thorin. As I understood, he took from the treasure hoard and brought it down to our encampment when he foresaw war on the horizon. While he did inform me that it was perhaps not his to give away, he seemed to find it more important to possibly stop war from happening."

There was a hush then, as Dís turned her head in shock to look at their hobbit. Now, he sunk slightly into the chair though he could not hide from the widened eyes of the Dwarrowdam.

"And," she said, her voice just above a whisper. "Did you know what it meant to us?"

"Y-yes," Bilbo answered, eyes searching out something in her face though it fell when he could not find it. "But I could not... I could not help myself. It was beautiful, and I snatched it without thinking. When I heard Bard's pleas and claims, well, they were correct. And I knew that," the hobbit frowned slightly, eyes catching on Thorin's shocked expression for a moment. "I knew that Thorin would likely do anything for it."

"But it did not turn out that way," she said slowly, her eyes moving around all of their faces now but she pulled her gaze back to settle on Thranduil. He had yet to say a word to their talking, and she needed to know his involvement in it now. "King Thranduil, I would implore to question you about the truth of their words."

The Elf King unfolded his hands from where he'd had them, raising one brow before glancing around the room at the others himself for a moment.

"Yes," he said simply. "I was there when the Arkenstone was handed over from Mister Baggins to Bard. I was quite amazed at his boldness in the decision to do such a thing. In fact, I urged him to stay with us than go back into the mountain, for I doubted that Thorin Oakenshield would be so kind when he discovered what had happened."

"Why were you with the Men?" Dís raised her brows, though she had put a comforting hand on the back of her brother. She seemed to ignore the elf’s last comment, though her hand tensed on Thorin’s shoulders.

"When we heard of Smaug dead, I marched my men out to the mountain to see to the wealth that it has hid these many years. But we were informed of Bard requesting help; as such I turned my attention to Laketown. I have always had good relations with them and felt no conflict in assisting them, for they were quite without home or aid. There was no reason for me to not offer my help and march with his people to Erebor," Thranduil kept his gaze steady on Dís as he talked, his expression unchanging. "We were prepared for battle against those dwarves, but when the Goblins approached, it was no matter to align ourselves with your people."

"I feel no sympathy for your people, to want to lend a hand, for I have seen the greed of Dwarves and I do not particularly want to help that," Thranduil scowled then, his expression turning for once. "I will not lie to you, while I marched and gave my aid to the Men; my intentions were to take what treasure I pleased to."

"You will not offer your aid, then," Dís said slowly, though this was not a surprise to either she or Thorin. They had not expected the Elf to do so, but she saw Bilbo's face fall and Bard frown slightly. Perhaps they were more hopeful, but the distrust between dwarves and elves ran far too deep. 

"No," Thranduil nodded in reply, before standing slowly. "Now that we are all aware of what happened, I would take my leave. You are to discuss alignment and aid; I would be of little use to this conversation." Before he left, the Elf King paused and then bowed to Bilbo in a surprising movement. Even the hobbit looked bewildered but Thranduil simply smiled down at him. "Should you ever want it, the halls of Mirkwood would be open to you, Bilbo Baggins."

When he had truly left, Dís bowed her head slightly with a sigh and Thorin slumped down, hiding his face in his arm for a moment before looking at Bard. The man regarded them now with a guarded expression, but he gave a short nod.

"I will be willing to hand you what aid I am capable of when I can, but my people could not do much for you now," he said.

"I do not expect they would," Thorin said, taking over the meeting easily as his sister slid into the emptied seat. Bilbo watched her cautiously, though she did not look at him for the moment. "And as winter hardens on, it would be best for your people to seek shelter where they can. We could offer some of Erebor, but we will be continuing restoration through the winter. Mirkwood might suit you better."

Bard bowed his head and quickly glanced back up with a larger frown. "Of course, my aid does not come to you because I feel it should. Dale and Erebor were well connected before Smaug's claim over both of them. It should prosper the way it once did, and I can do little without the gold that you have promised me."

Thorin grew silent for a long while before he finally conceded, hands laced together as he leaned his forehead against them. "I will then offer you what may be fair,” he started and then was cut off.

"He can have my share," Bilbo squeaked, eyes digging into the table when three pairs of eyes shifted to look at him. "That was the original deal; it shouldn't change, in exchange for the Arkenstone."

The silence seemed to drag on, then, after his words had left his mouth. For a moment, Bilbo felt his face heat up. He had not said much else than asked for him and now, he had interrupted and brought up the source of many great pains. But just as he was about to try and fix his mistake, to speak again, Dís stood up and it was a loud commotion which dragged him from embarrassment. 

"The Arkenstone will not reenter Erebor," she said, her voice hot and her hands balled into fists by her side. Thorin's eyes were wide, his mouth slack as he watched his sister look around at each of them. Bard had shifted back in surprise, face guarded though he gazed at her as if she were more frightening than any dragon. "Its presence here has never been a good one. In the hands of dwarves, what has it done? It cannot be here. But we cannot give it over to anyone else."

At first, he'd grown angry at his sister. The Arkenstone belonged to their family, to the line of Durin and to cast it out... But he caught sight of Bilbo then, thought of what he had nearly done to his One, and pressed a hand over his eyes. Dís was likely right, something had to be done about it but it could not come back here. However, he could not let it go anywhere far away. It still loomed in his mind, a part of their history.

"What of Dale?" Bard asked after a moment and Thorin looked over at him in surprise. "It is still in my possession. I do not feel greed toward it and it could be close but not dangerously so. If you wish for it to remain in safe hands and not fall to those who would find it to be hidden."

After a long discussion, they came to an agreement. Until they could figure out what exactly to do with the Arkenstone, it would be kept by Bard and in Dale for the safety of not only the Durin line but everyone around them. Bard excused himself, with directions to find Balin and tell him of Thorin's decision regarding the gold. Before he left to find the elder dwarf, the man had bowed fully to Thorin and said that he would return to his people, were they would make plans to travel to Mirkwood, for Thranduil would be willing and able to host the people left. Dís and Thorin were left alone, momentarily forgetting the hobbit still sat. 

"Well," she said with a faint smile. "Perhaps things may go well."

"I hope, though there will be more conflict despite this. Bard is not the Master of Laketown, he is currently nothing but a man who loves his people," Thorin was quiet, and then he turned around to look at Bilbo. The hobbit still sat there, picking at his sleeves but he seemed to sense the gaze on him and his head snapped up. Thorin's gaze softened and he was about to say something but Bilbo once again managed to dart out of the room before they could stop him. 

But the dwarf was not going to let his One go this time, for he couldn't and he had no reason to stay rooted to the spot. Dís' hand locked on his forearm when he took a lunging step and he made an angered noise. 

"You are going to tell me what happened, why you look at each other like that and not as if you are kissing behind my back!" 

In the quickest way he could, Thorin did tell his sister of the more intimate details of the Arkenstone incident. Her face fell as she learned of what had happened, of Thorin holding Bilbo over the Gate in his anger at being betrayed. Of wishing to never see him again, for he could not handle looking into the face of his love and knowing that he'd been so fully betrayed by the hobbit. Then, of what he had said when he thought himself dead. Dís pressed a hand over mouth, let his arm go and practically pushed him out the door. 

"Go, you idiot of a brother!" 


	4. A Hidden Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im posting this as i get ready to leave to see a movie so if there are any glaring mistakes i'll fix them later but for now! <3 this is shorter than the previous chapter but since this was supposed to be part of that chapter, that's probably why

Thorin rushed down the halls after Bilbo, though it was a bit harder to follow him than he'd thought it would be. For the king knew the halls in the back of his mind, but the hobbit seemed to take every twist and turn he found. In fact it was coming to the point that he could only think the way of catching his beloved was to, well, use shortcuts.

And there were plenty shortcuts built into Erebor. 

After a moment of contemplation, he turned and ducked into a hidden hallway that arched around and opened back out just before the kitchens. He could not be sure on where the hobbit was headed, but the kitchens were before the rooms and one of the two had to be where Bilbo was headed. He hoped. Only making his way through the hall would prove true, and considering he was one of few who knew about it, it was empty and easy to make his way quickly through.

When he turned the corner he almost slammed right into said hobbit, but it resulted more in Thorin having to reach for a wall to steady himself (really, he probably shouldn't have run off when he still needed his nephew to lean against) and Bilbo fumbling. Which, somehow, had the hobbit up against the wall and under Thorin.

Bilbo let out a troubled noise. 

"I apologize," he winced, one arm curled around his side for it screamed out in pain. The other arm was pressed up against the wall to steady him and too focused on his pain, he didn't notice the concerned look bloom on Bilbo's face. "If you would give me a moment."

"Ah, yes," Bilbo shifted slightly, eyes skimming over Thorin. He had a tight hold around his side, fingers clutching at the cloth of his shirt like it was his very lifeline. It was not a surprise to figure that he had yet to completely heal, after all he almost always was seen leaning on Fíli even if slight. 

The moment dragged on, and he attempted to look anywhere but at the dwarf leaned over him. This practice did not go well, for his eyes kept dragging back toward Thorin. Was he truly alright? Should Bilbo call out for someone, to look him over? Should _he_ look him over? As the thought played in his mind, he flushed but Thorin had straightened up and looked down at the hobbit in interest now.

"Why did you leave?" Oh, Bilbo let his eyes drop again. Surely... surely the King still hated him for what he had done and he had not wanted to face that, he'd much prefer to hold onto the last moment, where he had been valued over gold and treasure in Thorin's eyes.

"I'm quite, tired," he lied, fingers curling together. "So, so I was just going to nap, you see and-"

"Where?"

"T-the, hm," he kept his eyes on the floor, watching his own feet and Thorin's boots as the dwarf shuffled nearer him. "I've just been staying with Fíli and Kíli, I'm sure they won't mind if I just... oh." When he attempted to pull himself off the wall, Thorin blocked him and he fell back against it in surprise.

"You are staying with Fíli and Kíli?" Thorin's expression, when he finally looked up into the king's face, had clouded over a slight but then it seemed to clear and he nodded shortly, never letting an answer to the question happen. "Bilbo, I would like to apologize."

"For what?" But Thorin held his gaze fiercely, letting it sink in so he need not say it. "Ah, well, you see, you have already been quite sorry about that and taken back your words, so there is absolutely nothing to be sorry for now!"

Bilbo let out an odd chuckle, trying again to edge out from under the dwarf but it did little for him because Thorin refused to budge. He caught the look on Thorin's face, one that he'd never seen but rendered his movements useless for he stopped short as he gazed up at the dwarf. It wasn't pain, but it hurt to see the look on Thorin's face and Bilbo wished he could do anything to correct it, to make it go away. 

"Then why do you run from me?" Thorin's voice came out barely a whisper. "Why do you look at me like you do?"

At that, the hobbit faltered. He had no answer to say in this, at least none that he wanted to say for fear of being correct in his assumptions. It was far better to not know a truth, if it kept him from being hurt. 

"Bilbo."

"It would," Bilbo swallowed, eyes darting around for a second or two before he held gaze with Thorin then. He granted the king a watery smile, for now he was on the edge of tears. "It would only make sense that you hated me, of course, and I do not desire to find myself in more conflict or put you at an inconvenience, my King."

A shocked look crossed Thorin's face then, his mouth forming a firm line while he seemed lost in his thoughts. This was the perfect chance for the hobbit to slip out from under him and disappear into the room that he'd been fine staying in with Fíli and Kíli. Then, as he made to move, a hand settled on his shoulder and he jumped in surprise.

"I do not hate you," he rasped, gaze softening as he looked over Bilbo's face. "I was angry, aye, for I never thought you would betray me as you did. But never did I _hate_ you, Bilbo. You, you are," Thorin paused, brushing a hand over his cheek as a tear slicked its way down his cheek. Bilbo tried to breathe in, but it came out shaky and he desparetly wanted to scrub away at the tears that had begun to course down his cheeks. Thorin's hand tightened on his cheek. "You are the most radiant being I have ever met; you are the only thing that matters to me now, Bilbo,  _ghivashel._ You are my One," he uttered, trying to understand why the hobbit did not understand. But Bilbo was shaking now, his hands having come up long ago to clutch at Thorin in surprise. "I love you."

"Oh," he said, breathlessly. Bilbo's eyes were wide, his mouth open slightly as he blinked up at Thorin like he'd been stunned. Thorin bumped their heads together, foreheads touched but much softer than he would have to a dwarf. The King did not desire to send his One reeling from slamming their foreheads together. He did not notice the shift of the hobbit's hand until it was upon his face, caressing his cheek. Thorin sucked in a shaky breath. "That, um," Bilbo hid his face, a hand covering his mouth. But Thorin still caught the beginning of a smile etched onto his lips. "I never thought," he whispered into his hand. 

Heart beating loudly, Thorin pushed him away slowly and then tilted Bilbo's face up toward him by his chin. His eyes were reddened but beyond that, there was no evidence of the recent thoughts on his beloved's face. Bilbo smiled slightly at him, flushing and his heart swelled then. For his One to love him back...

"I would like to kiss you," Thorin practically blurted and he might have been embarrassed for acting like a dwarfling but Bilbo's eyes widened a fraction and his cheeks reddened more than they had been. "If you would let me, I mean."

Bilbo nodded slowly, eyes wide as he watched Thorin shift, one of his arms sliding behind Bilbo and curling around him in what only could be described as protective.

The dwarf breathed in, then ducked his head down and pressed his lips softly against Bilbo's. There was a pause but then he felt a pair of arms wrap around his neck, one of Bilbo's hands tangling in the king's locks. Thorin smiled against his lips, then cradled the hobbit carefully to him and nipped at his bottom lip, eliciting a moan from the smaller of the two. He slid his tongue into Bilbo's mouth, who responded rather vigorously in kind. It caught the dwarf off guard but then he was caught back up in the kiss that had become more than he'd intended. 

And he thought then that he could spend all his time like this, cradling and interlocked with his One. 

But then the hobbit was pulling back, gasping for air and hanging heavily on Thorin while he attempted on catching his breath. His cheeks were practically on fire and truly, the king had not even begun imagining the way the hobbit looked like _that_. HIs own face flushed, but Bilbo hung on him tightly and he couldn't bear shaking him off. 

"You can sleep with me, then," he stated simply and then the hobbit had pulled away in what appeared to be quite a shock. It took more than a moment for Thorin to catch onto why Bilbo's face had reddened in an embarrassed look. "Mahal, no, that's what I," he shook his head and brought Bilbo back toward him with one of his hands. "I meant, you need not stay with my sister-sons any longer. You can rest in my chambers, whenever you choose. And I hope, each night."

That seemed agreeable with Bilbo, though after a long moment he said with a frown, "Everything I have is in their room, though, and I don't really feel like moving it." 

"Do not worry, _ghivashel_. I will have it moved when there is time, but if you truly do desire rest, then let me show you to my chambers," Thorin held out a hand, which Bilbo took with no matter of hesitation. That, even the small acceptance of affection, made his heart swell again. 

-

"I do not know what to do, Dís," Thorin gazed at the ceiling of his sister's chambers. These had been hers for the first few years of her life and amazingly, they were untouched so he'd simply showed her to them, declared them hers and left it at that. She'd done little complaining, easily moving in and settling herself there. It was not uncommon to find a possession or two of her sons' for they were constantly inside their mother's chambers. Now, for instant, Dís had taken upon the difficult task of braiding Kíli's hair and Fíli sprawled out with a book over his face at Thorin's feet. 

"About what, hm?" She had not give him much mind since he'd shown up after dinner, her fingers just in her son's hair then. Now she hummed softly a song that had been a lullaby to the boys, and Kíli seemingly drifted awake and asleep. Fíli too, had drifted into a comfortable rest.

"Perhaps I should court him," he stated, placing his heads on his knees. The sound of hair being twisted stopped, though the dwarf did not react to his mother's stopping. For Dís had her eyes on her brother now, interest piqued.

"If you didn't, I would have made it happen, you know," she said, grinning at him when he shot her a look. "It would be foolish not to. He is here and I heard about what happened in the hall yesterday!" 

Thorin flushed, turning his head to watch the rise and fall of his heir's chest. Even Dís quieted back down with ease, concentration on tugging the unruly hair of her son into respectable braids. It'd been far too long since his hair had been braided properly, Thorin could tell just by the way his fussed. 

"Shall I employ your help?" When his sister only inclined her head toward him, he continued. "I know you can make fine courting beads, I saw the ones you made for yourself and Víli. It would be a great honor to me if you made them."

"Flattery will not get you everything in the world, Thorin."

But a twinkle had appeared in her eye. Dwarves loved their crafts, nearly as much as they loved their One. Though she did little else but beads, everyone had seen the ones she had crafted for her own courtship. That had been a shock, for it was customary that a family member of one of the dwarves made the beads to show acceptance on the familial side. Dís had already given hers, and Thorin did not need to ask his nephews about it for they were obvious about their liking of the hobbit. It was far more traditional, however, to have the beads made by his sister.

"The boys say you moved Bilbo out from their under noses, and I quote, without even asking!" She looked bemused as she finished off the braid she'd been working on for the last few minutes. While she clasped it, Fíli stirred and rolled over, the book clattering loudly on the floor. It startled both Kíli and Fíli. Thorin gave her nod, not only to what she had said but as well to end their conversation.

As Fíli yawned, Thorin faked a yawn and stretched his arms before he stood up. "I should be off, then. Accordingly, the rest of the dwarves are due to arrive when spring hits and if we want to get anywhere space wise, well," he gave a shrug to his nephews' pouts, though Kíli's was less as he switched between inspecting his braids and pouting at his leaving uncle.

He left the room quietly, making his way down the hall toward the King's chambers. They were not that far from Dís', but he passed two more chambers for the Durin line before he stopped in front of his own. Once, the ones next to the King's had been his and the chambers beside his had been Frenin's. Once... But now Kíli and Fíli took up the two chambers, though from what he understood they spent much of their time in Thorin's old chambers.

Opening the door without making noise seemed impossible, but it did not disturb the sleeping lump in his bed. Bilbo always went to bed directly after dinner, as far as Thorin knew he had yet to see the hobbit stay up once he collapsed on the soft furs and blankets of the bed. His soft snore echoed in the room then, as the king stood and assessed everything. The hobbit's things had been easily placed within the chambers and despite how little he had, it had fit like a small missing piece. 

Thorin approached the side of the bed, pausing at the journal clutched in Bilbo's fingers. He'd seen it once or twice before, but never had asked about it. Now, he slipped it from the fingers and it came with no resistance for Bilbo simply murmured something in his sleep and turned over on his side.

His intention was to place the journal somewhere else, but as he set it down a loose piece of paper slipped out slightly. When he pulled it out, it was, in fact, a portrait rather than a simple piece of paper. In confusion, he held it up. Dwarves had good sight in the dark, as they needed it to be able to mine, so he had no trouble seeing the portrait.

It was of a hobbit lass. Though not quite young, the way she was drawn suggested that she could not be much older than Bilbo. And she was pretty, in a striking way. Her hair was dark, curly like Bilbo's but fell longer and all around her. The smile on her face was soft, though somehow there seemed a glint in her eye like she'd much rather be doing something else than sitting still for a portrait. 

Thorin placed it back within the journal slowly, trying to hide his shock. Who was she? Why did his beloved have a portrait of a hobbit lass with him?

These questions would itch at him if he let them, so he decided to slip it to the back of his mind for the time being. It would be safer that way, for whatever reason Bilbo had. When he finally slid into the bed, Bilbo stirred and smiled sleepily at Thorin.

"'lo," he murmured a hand outstretching to tangle itself in Thorin's hair.

" _Ghivashel_ ," he greeted. "Did I wake you?"

"Mm," was the only reply he received, so after a moment Thorin leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on top of Bilbo's hair. The hobbit smiled, curling into Thorin. This put him at peace for the time being and the king drifted away into sleep without much more thought than the softness of his love's hair and how long it grew now. 

It was nearly long enough for a braid or two, by the time his sister had finished the courting beads, it would be long enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ghivashel - treasure of all treasures


	5. Familial Troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i ALMOST feel bad for throwing more troubles onto Thorin cause he just cant escape it in this fic

_Two Months Later_

Over the months, they'd fallen into a morning routine. The two princes were used to it, for they constantly had woken and gone into their mother's chambers for the morning before Erebor became busy for the day. At first, it had been just Dís and her sons preparing for the day together. But then, Bilbo had been dragged into it and that had eventually caused Thorin to join in on a morning routine. 

Spring had flown in, with the arrival of the rest of the dwarves from Ered Luin and the departure of Dain and the Ironhill dwarves. Now, the Lonely Mountain appeared lively and there were constant sounds of mining and restoring the mountain to its former glory. Dale, at the foot, had started to look like an actual city that it might have once been. Elves, from time to time, were seen helping the Men and Tauriel's group were always about Erebor despite the King's grumbling. Thorin was happy, for he had his home back, his people in their rightful place and his One right next to him along with the little close family he had left. 

For the moment, he sat on the edge of his sister's bed as she pulled her youngest son on to the floor, the mother hovering over her son's loose hair. Bilbo and Fíli were talking quietly about something, a book opened on the floor between them. The princes were to leave with a group of elves, requested by Tauriel to help take care of yet another outbreak of spiders. 

"It's just getting so long," Bilbo grumbled, fingers tugging at his locks. "Shouldn't I cut it already? I mean there wouldn't be a problem."

Fíli made a noise, eyes darting toward Thorin then back to Bilbo in shock. "No! You can't do that, Bilbo."

"Why?" The hobbit huffed, letting his hands drop into his lap. He hadn't been delving deep into the culture of dwarves, for he had been spending much of his time pouring over books with Ori regarding their history. The way Fíli looked at him after he'd suggested cutting his hair, however, had him thinking that his next project was to read up on their culture. 

"Because! It's an act of dishonor," the prince frowned at him, dropping his shoulders. He might have run his hand through his hair, but it'd been pulled up tightly against the back of his head in order to keep it from being tangled when they went into Mirkwood. Dís, at the moment, was wrestling Kíli into letting her do the same to his hair. "Don't let Uncle hear you suggesting that," he hissed, then called out to his mother in an amused voice, "Let him go, _amad_!"

"Oh," she huffed, letting her son escape from her hands and he patted at his hair, with a weak glare in her direction. "And who is going to braid his hair for him, hm? He can't do it and you know how hard his hair is to work with!" 

"I'm not a dwarfling," Kíli grumbled but his mother and uncle chuckled, to which he huffed. 

"Come over here, Kíli, it won't take long for me to put your hair up," Dís patted the bed then, but when her son did not budge a frown wormed its way onto her face. "Kíli?"

"No," he said quickly, taking a step back. At that, Thorin frowned. It was rare for either of the boys to defy their mother and he had yet to see Kíli act out as such. "Tauriel is going to braid my hair."

Though Bilbo did not understand why, the room filled with a pregnant pause that dragged on. It was not pleasant, for the looks on both Dís' and Thorin's face said enough without words. Beside him, Fíli shifted and Bilbo snuck a look to see that the dwarf heir had an uneasy look on his face. Kíli held his position, chin held high as if it would protect him from the darkening look on his uncle's face. The only thing Bilbo could figure was that the hatred between their two races might be cause, but... It felt as if the issue ran deeper.

He thought the silence might run on forever, but an interruption, a slight noise from Dís, kept it from doing so.

"What?" She said voice quiet and eyes wide as she stared at her son. But Kíli did not reply, keeping his eyes on her and not daring to look at his uncle. Which was for the best really, because Thorin had a rather foul look on his face. 

"You cannot," Thorin said, his voice heated with anger as he stood up and stomped over to his nephew. The young dwarf didn't step back, standing practically chest to chest with the king. "I will not allow it." Kíli's face twisted for a moment into a pathetic, sad look but just as it was there it bloomed into an angered look. He burst out into Khuzdul, leaving Bilbo out of whatever was being shouted. Though based on the look on Dís' face, whatever he was saying was not pleasant. Fíli had tensed with his eyes wide as he watched his younger brother shout.

"You will not talk to your uncle like that!" Dís had stood up, her face turned stony as she approached her brother and her son. But the young prince stumbled away then, backwards toward Bilbo and Fíli. His brother jumped up, catching his shoulder so that he didn't fall over. Bilbo could see their backs only now, they blocked the view of the rest of the room from him. "Kíli, apologize, now."

"No!" Bilbo watched as the dwarf squared his shoulders, Fíli's hand tightening on his shoulder. "I don't need your approval," he cried, though the hobbit could see a slight shake in his balled fists. Silence roared again, this time Bilbo slipped up to his feet with intent on escaping from the fight but suddenly he was being grabbed up by Kíli. He let out a surprised noise, blinking. "Bilbo is a better uncle than you! At least he supports me!" 

Said hobbit was left reeling as he was unceremoniously dropped on his feet, though he did manage to catch Kíli running out of the chambers with Fíli on his heels. The elder of the two sent an apologetic look at his mother, but he did appear sorry enough not to run after his brother. While holding his hand to his forehead and trying to find his balance again, he could hear rushed talking but he couldn't decipher if it was in Westron or Khuzdul. When he did finally gain his bearings back, Dís had collapsed back down on the bed and she was staring at the ground in shock. Thorin did not look as angry, though his mouth was in a firm scowl.

"You knew about this?" Dís stared off into nothing, but her voice sounded hard, concentrated. 

"Uh," Bilbo frowned. What exactly did he know about? Kíli and Tauriel... it had been fairly obvious, and when he'd asked Kíli had seemed afraid (Tauriel had looked at him, expression unchanging, for she did not care what he thought) but he'd shrugged his shoulders at it. His only thoughts about elves were positive, and Tauriel hadn't been the one to deny help when the dwarves lost their home. "Yes?"

"Why did you tell him it was okay?" Bilbo blinked in surprise, trying to fathom why it was not okay. For one, he hadn't said anything about Kíli courting the elf and neither had either of the boys, not directly so he didn't really understand... Tauriel braiding the dwarf's hair _really_ could not be that big of a deal.

"I don't see the problem," he said, frowning now. "It's not like they're doing anything wrong, why wouldn't Kíli want someone else to braid his hair beside his mother?"

There was a concerned look on Dís' face finally before it melted into a more confused one. She twitched her head up, looking at her brother as he frowned deeper. Then, she stood slowly, her gaze not leaving her brother's face as she did so. Bilbo felt it uncomfortable, but still trapped in the conversation he could not simply escape.

"Have you not told him about braiding?" Her face was twisted slightly, confusion and surprise. Thorin dropped his head then, gaze skirting across the floor and trying to find anything else to look at then his sister's face. Yes, this was definitely an odd moment to have to be part of. Braiding and hair were apparently important to dwarves, though he could not fathom why. Studying customs and culture would have to be moved to today, then. 

"It... it has yet to come up," the king glanced up then, holding his gaze with his sister before glancing over at Bilbo. There was another pause of quiet before he cleared his throat, addressing the hobbit directly. "The only people allowed to braid our hair are close kin or the intended. It is also the first step in courtship. Kíli is attempting to court the," he looked unhappy, struggling to spit the next word out. "Elf. If she braids his hair and he hers, it would be announcement to everyone. Although it little matters if he does not have the courting beads."

Dís looked more disgruntled now, pressing a hand to her mouth. Surely, she was upset and he supposed he understood that, for their hate towards elves did not do well with her youngest courting one. 

"He didn't ask for my blessing," she said quietly, slowly sitting back down on the edge of her bed. Bilbo did become more confused, but he was clever and could figure out things easier now that he knew the beginning of the courting. Dwarves needed blessings to begin their courtships, before they even performed the first step. 

"Dís," Thorin hissed, but he didn't move. "That is not the problem! He needs to know that he cannot-"

"Thorin that is my son! He didn't ask me for my blessing, he didn't ask _you_ for a blessing, he just," the princess turned her face into the crook of her arm, muffling a sob. This seemed to enrage Thorin further.

"He is being foolish! Kíli is far too young to be courting someone, and an elf at that!" Bilbo frowned slightly, but Dís' only response was continued sobs into her arm. The king threw up his arms, angered further by his sister's actions. "And he knows we do not love outside of our race!"

At that, her head shot up from her arm and she stared at her brother in shock. However, it had come out without him holding it back and Bilbo had heard it all too clear. Dwarves did not love outside of their own kind; of course, Ori had been talking about how few of them there were and how it had always been like that. Women were few and far, so they were quite treasured. But he hadn't thought... 

Thorin realized then, what he had said and who it had been said in front of. He turned his gaze from his sister's shocked expression to the hobbit, who stood silently in the spot he'd been since Kíli had dropped him there. His fists were curled, his face turned expressionless and his lips pressed together tightly.

Oh no, oh no no, Thorin had not meant to do this. 

"Wait, I did not-"

"Kíli is his own person," Bilbo said slowly, his voice distant and a shock of cold to it. "Do not shove your feelings on him. I have seen love before, and if he would not ask for your blessing, I should not be surprised," he lifted his gaze slightly, settling it on the pair of siblings. "If you are both too stubborn to see him happy, then I _will_."

While her shoulders slumped, Dís began to cry quietly again, covering her face and muttering into her hands. The king could not form words to begin to apologize, and even when he got a noise out, Bilbo had turned and slowly pushed the chamber's doors open. 

"You should consider his feelings over yours, and at least apologize to him, regardless of how you feel about it."

-

In fact, the dwarf princes were harder to locate than he'd thought. Too much time between their departure and his had passed, so when Bilbo was a hall or two away from the chambers he slowed. Quietly, he leaned against a wall and scrubbed at his eyes a few times. No, he was not crying, he was just upset that Kíli's own kin would not support him. That was definitely it. 

He stood there for a long while, thinking over what he knew about Erebor. It was big, far too big for him to navigate on his own. He'd always had Thorin, Dís, or Fíli and Kíli with him and they all knew where they were going. When he'd heard about secret halls and passageways, the king had nodded and drawn out a map of where they all were. Bilbo had kept it but he currently did not have it and couldn't remember if there _was_ anywhere that the princes would hide away in. 

Finally, he pushed off the wall and started off again, deciding that inquiring anyone he bumped into as to if they'd seen Kíli or Fíli. It was a safe bet. But he didn't expect to run into a pair of elves in conversation.

Tauriel tilted her head and then smiled softly at him as he approached them. With her, the son of Thranduil nodded slightly, raising a hand in greeting. A week ago, Legolas had shown up with many other elves in tow, handing over Orcrist to Thorin and then offering at least his help with whatever they needed. Thorin hadn't been keen on accepting but he had in the end, for the elves could help the Men of Dale and supply them, which would in return supply them.

Bilbo had been fairly sure it was just to make the Elven King mad, for he would then be inadvertently helping the dwarves. 

But Legolas was not so bad, in fact, Bilbo quite liked him. He and Tauriel got along, which did little to disturb Bilbo’s own friendship for he had already made friends with the female elf long ago, during the days when Thorin had still been unconscious. Though the prince bristled around dwarves, he did seem as friendly to the hobbit as he might be to the Men or his own people. 

Though, they both noticed the way Bilbo smiled insincerely and gave no vocal greeting for them. That was not usual of him, for he did like elves and almost always, Thorin had to pause with a slightly annoyed sigh while the hobbit excitedly said hello to every elf they passed. 

"Master Baggins?" Legolas wore a frown as he spoke. He'd gotten Tauriel to call him Bilbo easily, though it had been much more difficult to get the elf prince to even call him Master Baggins and not just Master Hobbit. The hobbit wasn't even sure he'd be able to get him to call him Master Bilbo, or drop the Master. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh," he breathed, eyes searching their faces. "Have you seen Kíli or Fíli, perhaps the both of them?"

"No," Tauriel answered, her mouth tugging down to mirror Legolas's frown. "Why? Where have they gone off to? We need to leave soon, if we want to take care of the nest."

"It's," the hobbit sighed, tucking his fingers into his pockets and playing with the ring there. Neither of the elves seemed to notice it, but that had become a nervous habit of his. The ring was a small comfort at times. "It's too much to explain right now, I'm sorry. You should go ahead; I doubt either of them is going to go along today."

Though the female elf frowned yet, she nodded her head and then whispered something to Legolas, who departed toward the outside of Erebor. She turned back to Bilbo. "Could I hope for a better explanation?"

"Kíli, he... He may have accidentally informed his mother and King Thorin about you two," he said and her mouth lifted slightly in amusement. "It didn't go well. He blew up and ran off with Fíli. So, I'm trying to locate them." Tauriel's smile dropped, her eyes widening in surprise. 

"Do you wish for help to find them?"

"No, no, please, I think he needs to cool down and seeing you right now might make him angrier at them again. I hope that I can talk him back into a better state," Tauriel nodded to his words, before granting him a small smile. "Try to avoid King Thorin until Kíli or I say otherwise."

Though she waved him off, muttering that she could deal with a stupid dwarf king herself, the elf did bound off after her prince and then Bilbo was left again to try and figure out where the two princes were. 

A flash of blonde hair answered his question easily. He followed slowly, keeping his ears open for the sound of Fíli's particular walk. In the few months he'd been there, Bilbo had taken to memorizing what each member of the Company's (and Dís) footfalls sounded like. It made it easier to find them amongst hundreds of dwarves. Though the dwarf probably thought he was sneaking and quiet, Bilbo could easily follow him without being heard himself. 

Surprisingly, the hobbit found he had followed the prince all the way back into the chambers hall, and he crept silently along the wall until Fíli disappeared into one of the rooms that they boys had been given. When the door shut, Bilbo walked calmly as he could to it and then pushed it open. 

Kíli was curled into the corner, his face pressed into his knees and Fíli had dropped, wrapping an arm around his brother's side. It took a while for Bilbo to approach them, for fear of interrupting the brothers in their quiet, hushed words. But when he did, Fíli's head snapped up and a frown dropped onto his lips. He looked ready to tell the hobbit off, but Bilbo held up his hands in defense.

"I'm not here to scold you," he stated, and after a moment, Fíli's face softened. Once it seemed like the boys would be fine with him being there, Bilbo slid down on Kíli's other side. "In fact, I came here offering my support," as he softened and quieted his face, the younger prince peeked at him from behind the curtain of his hair. "And I know I'm not your mother or your uncle, but I just think that you deserve-"

He let out a yelp as Kíli tackled him in a hug and he heard Fíli let out a relieved sigh. 

When he was finally able to push the dwarf off of him (which took far too much effort, really and he needed to tell Kíli to stop handling like he did) and right himself back into sitting, Kíli had an excited, happy look on his face. Fíli beamed as well, though now he stood up and was pacing around. There was no tenseness in the room, though he could tell that both boys had still been hoping their uncle would come around. Bilbo doubted it would be so easy, though he had a feeling convincing Dís to support her own son would be marginally easier than the king. It was his plan, in any case, to bring them both around to the idea that Kíli and Tauriel could be together.

"I don't know much about your culture," he said when Fíli had sat back down. "So I'm going to start studying it as quickly as I can, but your mother, she seemed upset about you not asking for a blessing?"

Kíli's face dropped and he looked at the ground. His brother frowned, but then said, "You usually don't begin a courtship without asking the blessing of a parent or whoever is your closest relative. I don't think it's written down anywhere, more like an unspoken rule."

"You count," Kíli said quickly, looking back up at the hobbit. "You count 'cause you're basically already our uncle too!"

Bilbo spluttered. Where did they get that idea? He _certainly_ wasn't married to Thorin and he did... spend all of his time with the king or one of them or studying the history of dwarves. His stomach dropped. He snuck a look at Fíli, but the dwarf didn't seem shocked at his brother's words. More like he agreed, like they'd all just agreed one day that Bilbo was part of the small royal family and he hadn't even known!

But when he thought of Thorin, of his words, the hobbit's face dropped and his shoulders drooped, which both of the princes noticed. 

"Bilbo?" 

Fíli's voice barely reached his ears. All he could think was how he wished to be home. He missed Bag End, his garden, and most of all: the comfort of his arm chair. Bilbo wished suddenly he were far away from these dwarves and their love and their calling of him as uncle. Though he didn't notice right away, he was crying and the noises he made were louder than he'd intended and he then scrubbed at his eyes, trying to rid himself from it.

"Oh no," Kíli's bottom lip wobbled then and he grew more upset than he had been. "You had a fight with Uncle," he said, quietly and when Bilbo didn't respond but with a hiccup, Kíli groaned. "Because of me!"

"Kíli," his brother hissed, frowning at them now. But it had startled the hobbit out of missing Bag End and his once comfortable life. How could sob over these things when they'd just gotten theirs back? And Kíli had better things to worry about than fights that had less to do with him than he thought. 

Clearing his throat, Bilbo stood up slowly and settled himself back between the princes. Fíli seemed nervous, but the hobbit snugged between them easily and then patted Kíli's hand a few times. "Don't worry, Kíli," he said simply, dismissing any further talk about Thorin from the room. At least for the moment. "So. Tell me about the courting beads? Do you have any?"

-

The King had been pacing within his chambers for nearly an hour now. Or he suspected that was how long he'd been there, but he could not be completely sure. When he'd retired the night before, Bilbo had not been there. There'd been a small hope within his chest that he'd wake to the small hobbit curled up in his arms, coming back to him in the middle of the night. But, no, he'd woken to an empty bed and no idea where Bilbo was. 

So he had yet to prepare himself for the day, not gone to his sister's rooms and had been pacing back and forth from one side of the room to the other. How could he even begin to apologize to his beloved? 

There was a knock and it faltered his pace, but he started dumbly at the door. Very few people who were actually allowed into the chambers of the king would knock (Dís and the boys would not, Bilbo had never). As he continued to stare at it with a frown, it opened. Dwalin stood there, arms crossed over his chest. Now, Thorin felt foolish. For he hadn't dressed in his armor yet, not any of the finery that dignified him as a king, as he wore neither but old traveling clothes to bed. 

"Thorin," Dwalin grunted, ignoring the disgruntled appearance of his king. They'd noticed the night before at dinner, when Bilbo had set himself between the king's nephews unlike his usual place beside Thorin. "Ya've got people wantin' to see ya. What's goin' on?"

He dropped his shoulders, running a hand through his hair and then shaking his head. "Who is it?"

"Well," Dwalin replied after a long pause. "Wouldn't worry about gettin' dressed all up. It's Gandalf."

"Ah," the King sighed, making a motion with his hand. "Then bring him here."

Thorin hadn't expected to wait long, though he found that it took longer than he had thought for Dwalin to come back with Gandalf. When Gandalf entered, he turned his head and stood up to greet the wizard but stopped in surprise. Beorn walked behind the wizard, and despite his size, the way Erebor had been built even the skin-changer had no trouble moving about, for the ceilings stretched up high. 

"I was only expecting Gandalf," he said finally, though he did greet them both as he would have if it were just Gandalf. As he had been informed, Beorn had appeared during the fight and had managed to snatch Thorin from within the battle. The King did not mind being in debt to someone like Beorn, for he had survived and the skin-changer hadn't asked for anything in return. Thorin had a feeling he never would. "But you are welcome as well. Please." 

They talked for a while, mostly about Erebor and Dale, along with mention of the Mirkwood Elves, though Thorin tended to dance around the subject when he could. 

"Though I would love to talk like this for longer, I must reveal that we came here with more purpose than simple talk," Gandalf said finally, peering down as the dwarf king. Thorin nodded. He wasn't quite surprised; the wizard rarely had any other reasons for his visits. "Spring has come to your regained home, Thorin Oakenshield, and your future looks bright," Gandalf's face crinkled into a smile and the king smiled as well. "But... I am afraid that I may be bearing some bad news onto you now."

"What is it?" He remained calm, diplomatic for he had no true idea what could be bad news now. All his people were here and he was sure that the Ironhill dwarves would return safely home. Gandalf glanced over at Beorn then back to Thorin.

"It had not been safe to travel in such conditions this winter, but as the spring has cleared away such weather and snow from the surrounding areas, it is time that Bilbo Baggins returned home to the Shire."


	6. Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off i would like to say wow, thank you for every single comment and kudo!! they definitely encourage me to write, sometimes more than my own muse 
> 
> second, updates may stretch out now, because i have rehearsal nearly every day as far as i know which gives me less time to write. im hoping to keep a regular schedule though, so there should never be a terribly long wait for a chapter unless something comes up

Beorn watched Gandalf leave with the words, "Well, I have to ask Bilbo himself." Then the man turned to look down at Thorin. Above all else, the skin-changer hadn't expected befriending dwarves anywhere in his life. Yet here and now he perhaps felt a sliver of pity for the king. They had been able to reclaim their homeland and held their king and his heirs safely. But it did not mean everything was perfect.

Thorin's reaction to their news hadn't been pleasant, dissolving into shouting much like a child might have. The wizard had called him such ("Acting like a dwarfling won't help you, Thorin.") and he had grumbled into his hand.

"What is the problem?" Beorn finally requested, searching the king's face.  

Though the dwarf did not look up at him, he did catch Thorin's shoulders sagging slightly. "I don't believe it is anything that would interest you."

For a while, the man watched the dwarf king. Then, slowly, "Well, let us see if it is."

"The hobbit," Thorin said simply, running a hand through his hair in a slightly annoyed way. He was only annoyed with himself by this point, for he knew his words had been harsh and had slipped by without him meaning to. Bilbo had been there and he had by all rights to be upset but they hadn't talked and he couldn't seem to get the hobbit on his own. Obviously, he was being avoided. 

"I have noticed," Beorn amended, and when Thorin blanched a little, the great man simply shook his head with a light smile. "You are not very hidden about your feelings, Oakenshield, as you might think you are. You wear them plainly on your face, even though it has been said that dwarves are secretive."

"We are," he argued, but pressed his face into his hands with a groan. Beorn chuckled. "If you have noticed, then surely I do not have to explain further."

"No," the skin-changer agreed. Beorn was well aware of the words that had been passed, or at least what they had probably been. It was truly written out in the fearful expression Thorin had made when Gandalf had said Bilbo was to head back to the Shire. "Though I am unaware of the exact happenings and I would but help if I knew the full circumstances."

Once he had explained what had happened, from the moment Kíli had declared his intentions regarding the elf and how he had certainly not meant to hurt Bilbo, but it had come out, Beorn seemed to be contemplating the words and then he shook his head with a sigh. 

"It is foolish of you," Beorn said, his face darkening slightly. This did not frighten Thorin so, but it did cause the dwarf to feel smaller than he was. "To stick in these ways. Your people are few, King under the Mountain, and I fear that nothing good will come of this if you do not try to mend things between the Dwarves and Elves. Mirkwood will remain your neighboring kingdom for a good time and things may only complicate if you do not at least extend an offer to King Thranduil."

"And what should I say to him? I am not in the wrong here!" 

All he received this time was a sigh. 

-

Morning came to Bilbo spending his time (what he would have normally spent with Dís, Thorin and the princes) in the kitchens. He liked it. It wasn't quiet, but most of the talk passed over his head in Khuzdul and he only held conversation with Bombur. 

But there was still something that made his heart ache, a feeling he hadn't felt since Thorin had seemingly kissed it out of him.

These thoughts sent him flitting around the kitchens. Unfortunately, not many of the dwarves completely enjoyed the hobbit as he was nearly always underfoot of them. Today was no different and after three different occasions of a nearly trampled hobbit, Bombur's wife had sent him out with a forceful pat on his back and some sort of pastry in his hand. Breakfast, according to dwarves and their system of meals was quite silly, happened between Breakfast and Second Breakfast's usual times. It had been hard to adjust, but then the dwarves who practically lived in the kitchens didn't mind sneaking him food between their three meals. Bilbo was fairly sure it was pity.

His stomach didn't care.

He hadn't tucked himself in with Fíli and Kíli, like he had before Thorin had offered up his chambers. No, he'd been afraid that the king might come looking there and Bilbo wasn't ready to deal with his own hurt feelings. Instead, he'd found members of the Company who were excited to have him spend the night. It wouldn't be permanent though and he was aware. Erebor might have been big but not enough to avoid confrontations. 

However, he ignored most of those thoughts and decided to head to the library. Ori was almost always there and he'd been translating a text from Khuzdul to Westron on the culture of dwarves. Even bits of it would be nice to know. He wanted to help Kíli, if he could not help himself he could at least help the younger of the two princes keep his love. Before he got there though, a familiar figure appeared before him and the hobbit was left speechless. 

"Gandalf!" Bilbo regained his bearings, brightening instantly. The wizard may have brought quite a lot of trouble into his life but to see someone else besides dwarves and the occasional Elf... Gandalf laughed before hugging him, for the hobbit had sprung for a hug. 

"My dear Bilbo," he said, when the hobbit had stopped clinging to him. "You look well. Where on earth were you going, looking so determined?" 

"The library," he said simply. A knowing look passed onto the wizard's face. As if, 'of course that would where he had headed'. "What else do you expect me to do, trapped in a mountain with dwarves, hm?"

The wizard's face softened first, then seemed to darken slightly. "What indeed," Gandalf said, quietly but not enough for Bilbo not to hear. It was odd, the hobbit thought, but not unlike Gandalf to go about muttering to himself. That was just the wizard, really, to him; he'd done that all throughout their journey. That and disappear with little more than a quick, sudden goodbye to all of them. 

"What _are_ you doing here?" He finally asked, brows coming together as he tried to puzzle exactly why the wizard had come back to Erebor. Well, he supped if Gandalf had come to talk to Thorin that would make sense. And of course he would come say hello to Bilbo. 

"Why," Gandalf said, blinking in slight surprise. Whether it was true surprise or not, he couldn't tell but he gave it little more thought than that. "Winter is over. It's quite a bit safer to travel over the Misty Mountains now. Do you not miss the Shire, Bag End?"

That threw him off. He had missed it just the other day; all of it, for the simplicity of Hobbiton had not been lost to him. While they were not simple creatures, hobbits were creatures of habit and most of all, comfort. Sometimes, the long, wide and tall halls of Erebor made him miss his small hole in the ground. His garden, for there was no garden in or outside of Erebor that could envy the ones around Bag End. Even his arm chair, as it seemed that the dwarves had better things to busy themselves with than the comfort of a chair (but he had complained and after a moment of humming, Thorin had murmured something about it to himself). And three meals a day made him dearly miss things like tea, elevenses and supper. Dwarves, excluding Bombur and a few of the other cooks, were not very concerned with food as long as they had their three meals.

"Yes," he answered when a long amount of silence had passed. "Of course I do. Who wouldn't miss home after a while?" When he talked, however, his eyes were following a group of dwarves as they hurried their way through the halls. "But I don't understand what that has to do with you coming... back," Bilbo's voice fell to a whisper on the last word and he glanced up in surprise. Gandalf had a soft smile. "Are you here to take me back to the Shire? To Bag End?"

"That was my intent here, yes," the wizard nodded and then beckoned Bilbo to follow him. He started a moment after, but easily caught up to the wizard's side but he had no idea where they were headed. It was far too easy for him to become lost among the halls, which was why he had stayed between the kitchens, the library, and the royal chambers. "Though it has come to my attention that you may not desire to leave."

Bilbo felt perplexed for all of two seconds before it dawned on him. His face flushed, and he straightened the end of his vest with a clearing of his throat. 

"No, no," he stated, as they continued on their way. If he'd been asked where they were, Bilbo would have faltered in being able to say where. Back towards the royal chambers, he thought, because there was a distinctive pattern on the floor that had apparently made by a young Thorin with his brother and a toddling Dís. "Returning to Bag End, well, I can't think of anything I want more than that." _Yes_ , a voice said quietly in the back of his mind, _you can_. He brushed it away, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. "When would we leave?"

Even though he'd offered it, Gandalf seemed more than a little surprised at his eagerness. "I suspect soon as we could, though we have to make plans to travel through Mirkwood. Beorn would be joining us."

"Beorn!" Bilbo brightened. "Is he here?"

"Ah," the wizard gave a nod as they paused outside of Thorin's chambers. He tapped the door lightly with his knuckles, less of a knock and more of an indication to the room. "Yes. Our friend is in the midst of what I imagine must be quite the conversation with the King. I think he must desire to return to his halls as much as you do Bag End."

Bilbo had a feeling that the skin-changer's feelings for his home were more founded, more concrete than his own mixed feelings. 

-

_Gandalf placed the map on the table, flattening it with his hands before stepping back. It was a map that Thorin had seen before, of course, for it mapped much of Middle Earth. There were markings all over it, and the king realized this map had likely been made with the one purpose of mapping out the journey from Erebor to the Shire. Beorn had little trouble seeing it, but Bilbo had squeezed by Thorin to peek at it._

_His heart still hurt, but he could not find the chance to snatch Bilbo away. Or rather, the hobbit was more elusive than he had originally thought._

_But now, Gandalf leaned over Bilbo tapping Erebor's peak with a finger. "Of course, we will depart from here," he trailed the finger down and it lingered on Dale. "Dale is not but a day or two away by horse and Lord Bard gave his word that he would be fine with us stopping there before continuing the journey. I don't suspect we will need but to take a breather there but in any case, the option is open." Then, he dragged him finger over to Mirkwood. "King Thranduil has offered a company to take us safely through Mirkwood, but they will go no farther than that."_

_"Yes," Beorn nodded. "We have accepted their help already. From there," while the man talked, Gandalf brought his finger to the Carrock. "We will head to my halls. I have no conflict with offering the halls for a few days, but after that, I can no longer travel with you," Beorn's look of apology nearly went unnoticed by the hobbit, but he'd given a nod and small smile._

_"We will then travel through the Misty Mountains," the wizard tapped the mountains on the map, before pointing at Rivendell after. "There should be no problem within the mountains now, nor at this time of the year so long as we do not dwell long in Dale or Beorn's halls. Rivendell will be a necessary stop," he directed this at Thorin. "I have things I must discuss with Lord Elrond."_

_Bilbo finally piped up, blinking down at the map. "How long do you think it will take?"_

_"I imagine less time than it took to get here, Bilbo, but it will be quite some time on the road before you reach the Shire," Gandalf gave him a sad look, before nodding back to the map. They all turned their attention to it. "We shall follow a direct route from Rivendell to Bree. I believe you know the way to the Shire from Bree?"_

_He gave a firm nod. "By foot, it can be a long trek but I do know the way well."_

_"Perhaps will we have ponies and be lucky for a shorter trip," Thorin said and he watched Bilbo for a reaction, but the hobbit did not look him and he kept his gaze focused on the map. But there was a tremble there, briefly in the hobbit's shoulders._

It had been a week since Gandalf and Beorn had come to Erebor, with their intent to escort the hobbit back to Bag End. Though Bilbo had wanted to leave earlier than that, Thorin had come to understand that making preparations to get through Mirkwood held them up. 

Thranduil had not been altogether pleased upon hearing that the small group traveling through his realm included the Dwarf King as well. But he had relented in the end, waving it off and saying that he had better things to attend to than an old feud. What with Tauriel and Legolas nearly living in Erebor (which Thorin had only recently learned of), the Elven King could do little but sigh and agree to continue with his offer of a company to take the hobbit and others safely through Mirkwood.

Now, they would be departing for Dale in the morning, pause there to make sure of themselves with everything and then continue on to Mirkwood. Following the route Gandalf had mapped out would be essential to a safe journey and Thorin felt less urgency with this.

But he could not go on this journey without having a word with Bilbo. 

Searching for him should have been easy, as he had various messengers who were relaying information on everyone in Erebor. Yet, no matter who he asked none of them had any idea where the hobbit was. 

It wasn't as if Bilbo had disappeared away from Erebor, for he occasionally caught sight of him but never long enough for the King to hail him down and he simply had to believe he'd be able to catch a moment before they departed. The only places that he knew Bilbo frequented were the kitchens and the library. And at the moment, the kitchens were empty as it was the late afternoon and supper would not be prepared for a while now. The library was grand, having been simply untouched by Smaug as the dragon had little interest in books and papers. Much of their history lay within the shelves and various dwarves had willingly shut themselves up within the library. Ori had been one of them.

Finding Bilbo curled up, his head on his knees while Ori sat next to him and pawed through a rather large tome and various books piled up around them was slightly reassuring but from here he couldn't read what the tome was exactly. As the two talked, the dwarf wrote slowly, his eyes flicking back and forth between the tome and the script. He was translating it, Thorin realized and found pride in that. The dwarf was the youngest member of their company, younger than Kíli even and he would make a fine scribe.

His ears picked up their conversation as he crept closer. 

"...and really, that is just the first step," Ori said, pausing and glancing up at Bilbo. "I don't think this part is in the book though, or any books. You said Fíli mentioned it and he was right. I've never read about it within any tomes, but every dwarf sort of knows it."

"Is it necessary?" Bilbo didn't shift his head from where it lay, closing his eyes and sighing slightly to himself. Ori's face screwed up for a moment before he gave a shrug.

"If you ask anyone, yeah. S'not written down anywhere though. The first initial act is a kiss, if the kiss is returned, then a courtship can start but," as the dwarf shrugged his shoulders again, it fell on Thorin then that the tome in his hands was not just about culture, but specifically about courting. Why was Bilbo interested in that? His heart thumped. "That doesn't make anything until the courting braids are in place."

"There are specific braids for courting?" The hobbit looked befuddled by this information and when Ori nodded, Bilbo groaned into his knees. "Dwarves are ridiculous." 

"Don't worry! If Kíli has already decided he's going to court Tauriel, he probably knows what type of braid to use and he can teach her the right ones," the dwarfling said, matter of factly before going back to scribbling out words. Thorin felt confused, because surely Ori would not be supporting the youngest prince in his endeavor. Ridiculous. Deciding that this might be his only chance, the king approached the two. When he did, Ori noticed first and jumped to his feet, book clutched to his chest as he bowed and then was off on stumbling feet without a look back at them.

"Bilbo," Thorin cleared his throat and when the hobbit glanced up, he watched his beloved's face go blank. "Bilbo, we need to talk. Please." 

For a moment, he thought perhaps he would get no response but softly, Bilbo did reply, "About what." 

Not a question, a statement and the hobbit continued to hide his face in his knees. Thorin took a breath and thought. There were several things he could ask to talk about, but likely he would only have this chance and very few topics would interest the hobbit at the moment. About the Shire or their own situation would earn him very little time, but perhaps involving his nephews?

"About Kíli," he decided finally. Thorin slightly accepted to get nothing from this but after a moment, a perplexed and surprised expression crossed over Bilbo's face. Then, slowly he gave a nod.

"Fine," he nodded next to him. "Sit."

"I," the dwarf king stared at the unoccupied space beside Bilbo that Ori had sat in moments before. But they were on the floor, and it was undignified for a king of all people to sit on the floor. But Bilbo's face was set, a frown working its way onto his mouth and then with that, Thorin sat down slowly. "Alright."

"I don't know what you really want to talk about, Thorin," Bilbo said, now his head no longer rested on his knees and he leveled the king with a firm gaze. "But I know it's not Kíli. I hardly believe you want to even humor the idea of your nephew with an elf and I do not particularly want to deal with that right now. If you have anything positive to talk about regarding him, I'll listen."

"How is he?" It was abrupt and it threw the hobbit off, a frown actually making its way on to his lips. "Kíli won't speak to me any longer. No matter how hard I try," Thorin looked down at the ground, sighing. "I didn't expect him to be angry as he is."

"Kíli's not angry," he said, turning his head to stare at a dwarf as they passed by though no one paid either of them much mind. "He's _upset_. You are not only his uncle; both of your nephews consider you partly their _father_. Can you imagine how he feels; being told by such a person in his life that he can't be with the love of his life? Horrid."

"But-"

"And! How fair do you think it is that you tell him he cannot love or court Tauriel because she is outside of your race if, if you," Bilbo stumbled over his words slightly, a hand hovering over his mouth and he cleared his throat a few times. Thorin looked over and had to catch himself as there were a few tears brimming his eyes. "If you claim you love me as you have. I don't care how much you hate elves. Tauriel has done nothing wrong. She saved Kíli's life many times over and even yours."

Then, Bilbo stood up slowly and held his head high as he turned around on his heels to stare down at the king. 

"Bilbo," he tried softly, but it was cut off.

"I think it would be to your benefit to know that Kíli does want your blessings, yours and Dís's," the hobbit kept his eyes just over Thorin's head before he gave a sharp nod. "He doesn't hate you, but you hurt him."

The words rung a tad more clearly than they should have and Thorin connected them to more than just his young nephew. He hung his head. 

"Gandalf told me you are going with us. I don't want to be late leaving," with that, Bilbo turned and left the King under the Mountain sitting on the floor of the library, feeling beyond undignified. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i may bring more about kili and tauriel up in the next chapter, but if not that issue may not be resolved until a bit later in the fic (but it will be resolved, i promise)


	7. Farewells

The halls were darkened, quiet and were it not for the torch Fíli had given her; the Elf would not have found her way easily around as she did now. While Dwarrows had little trouble seeing in the dark, Elves were not gifted with the night sight and even with her keen eyes, Tauriel surely would have tripped over her own feet in the dark.

"Kíli," she hissed, eyes roaming over the grand structures that towered over her. Their architecture was something to marvel at and she might have, but she had little time at the moment. In the dark, even with the torch, she couldn't see much and a slight surprised noise found her when the young prince appeared before her suddenly. 

"Tauriel," he said, surprised. "What are you doing here? Uncle will kill you if he finds us!

"Oh," Tauriel said, the corners of her mouth turning down. "Blast your stupid uncle king, _meleth_ , I needed to see you. We need to talk."

Kíli was mystified as to why she was there, but he decided to ignore it for now. In truth, they had not seen each other since the outburst had happened with his uncle, for despite his initial anger; he hadn't been able to work up the courage to slip away and see her. Not even to propose courtship, unfortunately, which both Bilbo and Fíli had grown annoyed with. He had yet to completely make up with his mother, although they were on talking terms again and he sat with her and Fíli at meals. Now, Kíli tilted his head forward and smiled happily at Tauriel.

"What about?"

"I have been informed that B- I mean, Master Bilbo is to leave tomorrow morning, and along with him, King Thorin," her face showed little emotion, neither in her voice and he was curious as to why that mattered. "I have volunteered to be part of the company that will escort them safely through Mirkwood," Tauriel eyed him then, bringing her hand to search for his. He eagerly held her slim fingers between his hands. "My King was unsurprised, but he did not argue with me."

"Well," Kíli said, confusion etching its way onto his face. "I don't understand why you need to tell me. Surely you will come back to Erebor and then no one will try to stop you, for Fíli approves! Unless..." His face became panicked. "You are going with them?"

"No," she gave him an odd, confused look. "I will return once we have assured them out of Mirkwood. Master Bilbo has many of my thanks, and I do believe I am fond of him. It would do good to see him safely off, as well that I might prove myself to your uncle, though I do not think he will grant us a blessing."

Kíli nodded after a moment, casting his eyes down. It was likely true that Thorin would never get over his resentment toward elves. It had only been a few days beforehand that they had received a letter from Elrond, offering help (that every single dwarf knew wouldn't be accepted) and also sending his regards to the hobbit for when he would arrive in Rivendell. Bilbo had been excited, reading the letter and then thinking of bringing the Elf something until he'd seen the look Thorin was sending the wall above his head and he'd deflated a bit. That was something else that made Kíli uneasy, for the apparent fight between his uncle and their burglar had not seemed resolved yet. 

"But your brother told me that you have been given a blessing that counts and I would," Tauriel paused, breathing in and then continuing. "I would desire to enter a courtship with you before I am to leave in this morning."

The Elf worried if she had done something wrong, for Fíli had told her to be direct as possible because his brother could be fairly dense, when the prince did not immediately respond. He seemed rooted to the spot all of the sudden, his hands tight on her own. Just as she was about to call him back to her, he suddenly snapped back to reality. 

"Oh, oh!" In his excitement, Kíli attempted to pick them up and Tauriel was glad she had a firm grip on the torch as they stumbled when he did. "Tauriel," he murmured, looking incredibly happy. " _Menu tessu_ ," he said, staring up at her in amazement. " _Men lananubukhs menu_."

"What does that mean?" Her eyes were wide, for she had never heard Khuzdul spoken more than a string of jumbled phrases, as the secrecy of dwarrows certainly kept them away from her. 

"You are everything," Kíli said, tightening his hands around hers. "I love you."

She sucked in a breath in surprise, before bowing her head down to him and holding their foreheads together. Though rare, she'd seen many dwarrows doing this when she crept by. It was obviously an intimate gesture and by the way Kíli closed his eyes, she had guessed right. 

" _Gerich veleth ní n,_ " Tauriel murmured quietly. "You have my love."

After a moment, she pulled back from the odd embrace and smiled at him. Her next move was more daring, as she understood that the secrecy of dwarrows spread throughout including affection. However, as she saw no one else in the halls, Tauriel quickly ducked down and pressed a soft light peck to his lips. Kíli flustered then, pulling her close behind him as they traversed through the halls until they came to a room. With a hush, he put the light of the torch out and pulled her inside the room. Then, he lit the candles all around the room. 

She could see better, the first thing she spotted was Fíli curled up on his side in one of the two beds. At the light flooding the room, he twisted over.

"You're already back?" The elder prince sounded confused, but then he spotted her. "Ah," Fíli shifted up, placing his hands on his knees. "Should I..?"

"No," Kíli said, shaking his head though a large smile took up much of his face. "It's fine. Go to sleep, mother will be angry with both of us if we both are exhausted when we see Uncle and Bilbo off." Though Fíli seemed a bit confused, he nodded and situated himself back on to his side, turning over and burrowing into the bed to hide from the light of the candles. "Here, sit here," Kíli patted the edge of his bed and once she did, he sat down by her side with a few beads cupped in his palm.

"Those are courting beads," she said, slightly dumb as she stared at them. Bilbo had explained a bit about them mainly that they were usually made and hard to come by otherwise. 

"Yes," he said, eagerly showing them to her closer. "I found them, among the hoard. They fit you better than anything I had to offer." 

Tauriel took a closer look, eyes skimming over the gems embedded in the gold. There were mainly emeralds, but a few rubies shown through on one or two beads. But there were few beads. "I have none for you," she said slowly but Kíli shook his head. 

"No, no," Kíli asserted, keeping his voice low. "It is traditional for the one to initiate the courtship to provide both," then he added quietly. "My mother made her and my father's. She still has hers in her hair."

From that, the prince shifted and began to braid her hair, explaining more about the beads themselves and even the braid itself. The first one he did meant love, although he said that most of them meant some type of love but this one was 'young love' and when he snapped the bead in place, he said that emeralds generally meant love or hope, given for faith. But by the look in his eyes, he wasn't too worried about her faithfulness. The next braid he did, Kíli explained as being more of a promise, and that it was normally braided into the intended's hair during wartime, a promise to come back. He clasped it with another emerald bead. The last braid he didn't explain, though it took quite a lot time and then he held up one of the two beads with rubies in it.

"Rubies also represent love, even more than emeralds," Kíli said, his voice quiet as he clasped her braid. "It may also give you courage, though I know you don't need it. Most of all, it symbolizes royalty."

Tauriel braided his hair much slower, copying the three braids he had done and wondering what the third one meant but not dwelling on it. Perhaps it would be explained to her, though it was not her business to inquire now. When she was done, the sun had just begun to dance on the horizon and Tauriel would need to be back in Mirkwood before Bilbo made it there. With a sigh, she pressed a soft kiss to Kíli's forehead.

"Until the next time I see you," she waved him farewell, disappearing and Kíli curled up in his bed. 

-

Of all things, Dís did not expect to have to nearly drag her sons out of bed. Fíli came with less complaint, though he did bat at her hands when she plucked the furs and blankets off of him. Approaching her younger son's bed, she paused and then with a sigh, shook the bundle of furs. Behind her, Fíli watched wearily. The braids for courting were not subtle and stood out among others, but they would be most noticeable in the otherwise unbraided hair of his brother. 

"Kíli," she said, plucking a few blankets away from her bundled up son. "You are far too old to be sleeping in this late, come now, and get up."

When he sat up, his mother had to take a step back. The braids had, as his older brother predicted, taken her by surprise but she cleared her throat and said nothing of it. Surprisingly strong of their mother, but Fíli figured it was mostly because she no longer wanted to stir up a fight. Thorin would be furious, of course, but that was to be expected. 

"Weren't you going to help Bilbo finish packing?" Dís had thought she'd heard them over dinner the night before. Apparently she had, as Kíli jumped up excitedly and then was out of the room before either she or her other son could say much. She directed her gaze on him. "Aren't you going?"

"Think Kee needs some time alone with Bilbo before he leaves," Fíli shrugged his shoulders, running a hand through his hair. It was a gesture not unlike his father had done. She turned away, inspecting the mess of their room. "And I doubt I can run off and help anyway."

"You're right," she agreed, turning to look him over now. The departure was not due to happen until noon, likely to give everyone time to say goodbye. It was barely enough time to have her son dressed up like a King for the time his uncle would be gone. "Let's go, before Thorin comes looking for us."

They stepped out into the hall, preparing to head toward Thorin's room (which wasn't far, for the boys had camped themselves in Thorin's old chambers, and Bilbo in Frerin's). The two were stopped when as she shut the door, Dís spotted her son leaning heavily against the door to Frerin's chambers. At first, she wondered idly if he had fallen asleep against the door but then she realized he was talking quietly and occasionally rattling the doorknob. When he sensed them looking at them, Kíli sighed and gestured angrily at the door.

"He won't let me in!"

"A moment," his mother said and then walked slowly along the wall, letting her fingers drag along the wall while she kicked at the bottom bricks. Fíli was rather unsure why she did this, though when she paused and knelt down, his answer came. Dís loosened a brick, slipping it out of its place and then retrieving something from within the wall. "Here," she handed it to Kíli. "It's a key to Frer- to the chambers. Your uncles and I used to hide things within the walls."

The only response she received from him was a relieved smile, before he turned and unlocked the door. 

Bilbo's head shot up startled at the intrusion. Before they left, he'd wanted some privacy but by the look on Kíli's face it was unlikely he'd get any more time and for his part, the hobbit couldn't really care. In the time he'd been in Erebor, he had become fond of both the boys and might have as well claimed them as nephews even though both of them were older than him.

Simply, he offered the prince a smile and then went back to packing away what little he had. His hands stilled on the blankets, deciding against packing any of them and then turned to survey what was left.

"D'you need any help?" Kíli looked around the chambers himself. It looked like anything that Bilbo owned had already been packed away. Then he spotted the small journal that the hobbit usually guarded with his life. As he picked it up, Bilbo blinked in surprise. 

"Oh, I almost forgot that!" Instead of snatching it from the dwarfling though, Bilbo gave him a relieved smile and then gestured at his pack. "Put it in the front pocket."

He knew Bilbo didn't have much left with him, though he still though that the pack felt a bit light then. The prince ignored it, sliding the journal carefully into the back and then fastening it shut. When he turned back around, the hobbit had his eyes invested in the braids in Kíli's hair. The dwarf beamed excitedly. His mother had said nothing and neither had Fíli, but he knew that they were waiting for the right moment. 

"Those," he said after a moment, gesturing a bit oddly. "Those are courting braids!"

"Yes," Kíli replied, beaming brighter when Bilbo granted him a happy smile. 

"Congratulations, then," Bilbo said, clasping a hand on Kíli's shoulder, though he had to step onto his toes to do it which made Kíli laugh a little. "Would you give my congratulations to Tauriel?"

"Oh, but you'll be seeing her sooner than I will!" The hobbit gave him a surprised look. "She's part of the company helping you through Mirkwood."

The rest of their morning was spent making sure that yes, Bilbo did have everything packed and that Kíli looked presentable enough that when Bilbo left Dís would not murder her son for being any less than that. They were back in Thorin's old chambers (no sight of Dís, Thorin or Fíli as of yet, though Bilbo had prepared himself to bolt at the sight of the King), the young prince smoothing down the front of his shirt with a sigh. Though, the hobbit's gaze was fixed on a tapestry that hung on the wall. He hadn't ever noticed it before now, but with little else to do, it had caught his attention. It appeared to be a family tree, names far up and coming down all the way to Thorin's name, with the name Frerin following on the side.

"Who's Frerin?" With a furrowed brow, he glanced over at Kíli and watched him freeze up for a moment. "Sorry," he started, backtracking nearly instantly. "I didn't-"

"No, it's okay," Kíli asserted, though he had lost the frustrated look on his face and it'd been replaced with a small, sad smile. "Frerin is my uncle."

"Oh," Bilbo blinked, trying to recall mention of the name before now. It had not come up, where was Frerin and why did he not precede Fíli in line for the throne? "Where is he?" Kíli stayed quiet for a while. 

"He died," he said finally, eyes on the ground. "A long time ago. Fee and I never knew him, just stories from mother and Uncle. He was even younger than us when he died. I don't think Uncle Thorin has ever really forgiven himself, but mother hasn't told us much of what happened. We just know he died at the Battle of Azanulbizar."

Saying nothing, Bilbo nodded. Kíli watched him nervously. Death was prominent in the Durin line, and much of the time both Thorin and Dís tended to put it behind them as much as they could. For them, the youngest members of the Durins had grown up without knowing King Thror, barely knowing their grandfather, and excluding their own mother, neither of the boys had met any other female relatives. It had been hard and Kíli only had the barest of memories of his own father. Thorin took over much of that role, but he still knew there was a person in his memories that registered as his father. 

It mattered not now, but sometimes he wished that he had a father, alive and well, resting in Erebor with them. 

"Sorry to interrupt," Dís said, sticking her head in the room and smiling lightly at them. "But Bilbo, you've got less than an hour to be ready to go," voice quiet, she strayed her gaze onto Kíli and then sighed. "Come with me, Kíli, and don't argue! You look a disaster, at least let me fix your clothes. You need to see Bilbo and your uncle off properly."

Kíli gave the hobbit a fleeting look, but Bilbo simply smiled wide, letting the dwarf be dragged off by his mother. When they were gone, Bilbo let out a huge sigh and collapsed on the bed, pressing his face into his hands. 

-

With a sigh, Thorin strode out of Erebor. He took a moment to turn and look at it, eyes marveling at how it looked now that it had been even partly restored. It was likely that by the time he came back, it would nearly be fully restored. That would be a sight he could not wait for.

But still, his heart ached for something else even more.

"So what's the excuse?" He jumped, whipping around to glare at his sister as she came to stand by him. "What have you told the dwarrows outside of us and the Company?"

"It's necessary to assure the safety of Bilbo Baggins," Thorin cleared his throat, keeping his eyes resting on the gate. A terrifying place to him now. "Without him, we would not have reclaimed Erebor and lived to see its glory. It would be wise to offer protection and an alliance to the Shire hobbits."

"You don't know if they would accept that," she said, though he could hear the small smile on her lips. 

"You're right," Thorin said, but then turned and looked at her. "But what else can I say that will go over well with the people of Erebor?"

A few moments later, Gandalf and Beorn came along, Bilbo just behind them. The four were due to depart for Dale any moment, though a grand farewell seemed in place. Fíli stood erect, hands behind his back with Kíli at his side and the brothers looked slightly nervous. It wasn't the first time they'd be in charge, and this time Dís would be by them the entire time, but it was quite different when Thorin was _leaving_ them in charge. His sister approached them first. 

" _Gaubdûkhimâ gagin yâkùlib Mahal_ ," she said, embracing her brother tightly. Thorin knew how his sister felt, and she wouldn't voice it to him. But he was leaving her again, though this time the journey would not be so dangerous. " _Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukhil_."

He replied the first part and then bashed their heads together before letting her go. As he did, she slid something into his hand and he didn't look at it, though by the weight and size of the bag, he knew what it was. Fíli and Kíli eagerly rushed to their uncle, hugging him tight and repeating Dís's words together. It had been the first time since the fight that Kíli had talked to Thorin, much less touched him but the King let it slip and bashed their heads affectionately before stepping back. He'd said the rest of his goodbyes earlier, wanting to keep this short. 

Dís had moved to Bilbo, holding his hands softly in hers. "I will miss you dearly, Bilbo, you are quite part of my family by this point," she kept her voice soft as she talked. They had not fully forgiven each other, though Bilbo had talked briefly with her throughout the week so she knew he was not necessarily angry with her anymore. "I wish you the safest journey possible and that I may see you again."

"You are very nearly my sister," Bilbo said, brightening. "At least I think, I don't have any siblings so I don't really know what it's like but," he flustered a bit before leaning forward to hug her, which Dís accepted happily. "I promise to see you as soon as I can."

"Thank you," she said, pulling back and the hobbit feared she was going to try and conk their foreheads together but she simple gave him a large smile. 

Bilbo let himself be swept up by Fíli and Kíli, chuckling when they talked excitedly before they would say their goodbyes. 

"Sneak around the elves again if you can," Fíli grinned at him. "And give Elrond our regards when you reach Rivendell."

"Ooh, and don't let any pretty hobbit lasses steal you away from us," Kíli said, smiling slyly. 

"I don't think that will be a problem," Bilbo got out, coughing and trying to hide his red face. The boys still grinned, finally setting him down and when Kíli tried to smash their heads together, Dís pulled them away with a scolding noise. Gandalf cleared his throat and that seemed to catch Bilbo up to the fact that they were leaving. "Goodbye," he said, smiling sadly at them. "Please take care. Don't get into any trouble."

" _Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu_ ," Fíli said after a moment, bowing his head to Bilbo. Though no one said what it meant, Bilbo didn't really mind as their language had been explained to him as sacred and he hardly had reason to learn it beyong his own curiosity. Kíli wished goodbye in Westron, before they turned and left with Dís behind them. She cast one last look behind her shoulder, eyes lingering on her brother.

"Let us go, then," Gandalf said, turning to look in the direction of Dale. Thorin turned for one more look of Erebor, turning back and steeling himself before he caught Bilbo looking at him. The hobbit blinked, before turning his head swiftly and walking quickly up to Gandalf's side. Beorn said nothing, but kept his stride with Thorin's, a few feet behind Gandalf and Bilbo.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaubdûkhimâ gagin yâkùlib Mahal: May we meet again with the grace of Mahal  
> Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukhil: I wish you a safe journey  
> Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu: May Mahal’s hammer shield you
> 
> -  
> the next chapter will be this sort of intermission thing?? it's hard to explain but you'll see (it's a way for me to ease into hobbits as well) but it's not necessary to the actual story so you dont have to read it
> 
> <3


	8. Interlude: Concerning Hobbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo tells Fili, Kili and Ori the story of Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins' Courtship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> summary explains this pretty well. my only note is to say that the italic bits are interruptions on the dwarves points (but i think you can figure it out easily). this is set sometime in the two months that Bilbo has spent in Erebor. not exactly as long as i wanted it or how exactly i planned on writing it, but i started losing the muse to write this,

Noises startled Bilbo out of the book he had been reading fervently, for it was the only book in Erebor’s library that had been written in Westron. Beside him, Ori wrote at a slower pace than usual as afternoon was starting to drag on. But what startled him out of his reading was not the youngest Dwarf. No, for he was quiet, concentrating hard on the translating of the tome that Bilbo had been interested in. When he glanced up and away, the hobbit caught Fíli and Kíli beaming at him.

“Bilbo!” Kíli clapped his hands together. “Mother and Uncle sent us here.”

“To stay out of the way,” Fíli clarified.

“Ah huh,” the hobbit let out a sigh, setting his book down. There was no way he would finish reading now, not with the boys in the library. Ori glanced up at the noise of the book shutting, before smiling at the other dwarrows. “I suppose they sent you to me to keep you out of trouble. Isn’t Thorin meeting with Bard today?” He glanced at the heir. “Shouldn’t you be at that meeting?”

The elder prince shrugged, leaning heavily back against the shelf. Unfortunately, Bilbo wasn’t really sure how he could entertain the two, because really neither of them liked books nor sitting still. That was all Bilbo did, other than lingering in the kitchens but he was not going to be bothering the kitchen dwarrows with the boys’ presence. Food had not been scarce, per se, but it certainly was not plentiful and the two would definitely try to eat everything in sight. And now, by the look of Ori’s face, he had three young dwarrows to entertain. Wonderful.

Thinking on it, Bilbo thought of his own mother’s stories and how only a year or so ago, he had told made up fairy stories to his young cousins.

He knew Ori wouldn’t mind hearing a story, for the dwarf was immensely interested in learning about Hobbits and recording the information. Bilbo had asserted that hobbits really were not that interesting, their daily lives were fairly simplistic and excluding a few Took relatives, they only ventured maybe as far as Bree.

Then, the dwarf had beamed excitedly and pried for information about said Took relatives and where they went, what they did.

“Alright,” he said, tapping the table as he thought. “What about a story?”

Kíli’s face brightened, leaning forward excitedly. While Ori simply murmured his agreed excitement, Fíli didn’t seem as interested in storytelling. At least not that Bilbo could tell.

“About hobbits,” Ori said, pulling on his sleeves before holding up a quill and pointing at a book that had yet to be written on, except for a title, _Concerning Hobbits_. “Cause we need something in the library and records about hobbits.”

“Adventure!” Kíli exclaimed. “It has to have adventure in it, you know, not a good story without some adventure.”

“You’re not going to find a story about hobbits with much adventure, I’m afraid,” he sighed. Bilbo didn’t expect to hear anything from Fíli, but his voice broke through Kíli’s whining.

“Then what about romance?” When the three turned to stare at him in surprise, Fíli frowned. “Surely Hobbits have romance in their stories, at least. We have entire tomes dedicated to the steps of courtship.”

“Romance…” Bilbo frowned, racking his mind for any stories that could be interesting to the dwarrows. His mother hadn’t told him many stories about hobbits themselves, for he could simply look out the window of Bag End and ask their gardener. And few of her tales about Elves included romance. “About hobbits?”

“Oh,” Ori said, and then gave a nod to an apparent idea he had. “You could tell us about the courting of hobbits!”

“Well, it’s fairly simple, really, I assure you, telling you how to court a hobbit would be rather boring and only take a few moments.”

But then an idea had occurred to him. It was true that Belladonna had never told him many stories concerning hobbits; she had regaled him with tales of her courtship with his father. Bungo, in a surprising move, had piped in and given more details to what had happened.

“Okay,” Bilbo said, startling the three from their disappointed looks. “I’ll tell you the Courtship of Belladonna Took.”

“Is that a famous tale?” Ori’s eyes were wide, and Bilbo smiled slightly to himself.

“In fact, it’s quite unknown to many hobbits. I believe I am one of the few that knows all the details of this story,” he knew this claim true, for other than Aunt Mirabella, not many hobbits cared to remember the marriage of Bungo and Belladonna. It had nearly been a scandal, for someone as respectable at Bungo to marry a Took girl, not even out of her tweens fully.

“It ends,” Bilbo started. “With a hole in the ground. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”

“And how does it start?” Fíli had squeezed himself beside his brother, eyes widening in interest. Smiling, the hobbit relaxed into the comfort of the library.

-

Bungo Baggins believed himself to be, among other things, a respectable Hobbit. Yes, he was a Baggins and that left little romm for argument this side of the Shire. It was the unstated face about Bagginses. Calm, sedentary, normal hobbits. He ate all seven meals heartily, spend his younger days napping and tending to his mother's gardens. Up until one day, Bungo was a picture-perfect Baggins. 

Laura sighed, watching her eldest son putter around the garden. Their small hobbit hole was not at all impressive, though the garden that her son had grown attracted quite a lot more attention than she or Mungo thought right. Perhaps it was this reasoning that she left her kitchen, went into her son's garden and forced him off with a book. Perhaps not, but it did not matter for Bungo now stood in the road with a book tucked under his arm. A muttering from his mother left him with no choice but to sit under a tree near their hole in the ground. And despite being booted from his garden, even then the hobbit was content to be there. That was his plan, for the remained hours until supper. It did not go exactly that way. Passing hobbits would say Bungo had been quiet, nose tucked away in the book he had. And then? There'd been a shriek from the young man, but seldom did hobbits meddle in business as such.

( _"What?" Fíli frowned. "Hobbits don't go around poking their nose in everyone's business?"_

_"Goodness, no!" Bilbo frowned, trying to ignore the interruption. "And certainly not a Baggins. You lot practically seduced me into the adventure, I'll have you know. I would have been content to stay at home, safe, thank you."_

_Kíli snickered._ )

Now, as it were, unexpected things rarely happened in the Shire. No one thought much of the things that did, for that caused more troubled than needed. 

Belladonna Took was not so respectable but she did not mind. She much preferred hiking up her skirt and trampling over the road, though she'd always been told this was a dangerous act for the road could lead anywhere. Being the daughter of Gerontius Took did little to discourage her from disappearing into the forests looking for elves. On a hotter afternoon, in the midst of summer, she'd been doing just that. Gandalf had told her that sometimes elves would pass by, and they would be quite kind to her.

She hadn't found them, which would be a great disappointment to her younger sisters. Perhaps Isengar would be just as disappointed, for he held his eldest sister's penchant for adventure. 

Belladonna was formulating what she would tell them, perhaps a tale of how the elves had moved too quickly for her to catch them!

The forests that lie on the outskirts of Hobbiton grew sparse the closer they came to the roads, though not enough for a hobbit lass to be spotted. Bungo had his nose still buried in the book, even as late afternoon began blending into night. His mother would find him in time for supper surely. As he turned the next page, the chapter ended and the Baggins boy thought about heading toward his small hole in the ground. By now, his mother had to have come to her senses. 

Though, he would dread any length of conflict with her. So, Bungo began the next chapter with little else in mind. However, he never did finish the book. For just then, as Belladonna had been lost thoroughly in her thoughts and a large tree root managed to trip her, a hobbit lass fell into his lap. This was where the shriek came from, where his book flew through the air and how Belladonna Took and Bungo Baggins met. 

( _"That seems sort of," Kíli waved his hand around with a frown. "Like it was made up."_

_Bilbo huffed. "That's how it happened, now quite interrupting!"_

_"Well," Ori added before Bilbo could continue. "It does sound like it belongs in a work of romantic fiction."_

_"Oh, and what is with the Elves! Why not Dwarrows, why couldn't Gandalf tell her about Dwarrows!" Fíli seemed quite upset about this piece of information._

_The hobbit ignored them again.)_

As hobbits went, many are considered simple creatures and not much else. Food, ale, and the fine art of smoking take up most of their interests (though if you asked Holman Greenhand, flowers were just as important). They came of age at thirty-three, and Bungo was thirty-four but he had never once looked at any hobbit lass in interest. Not every Hobbit married, they didn't need to with how many children hobbits like Gerontius had (a whooping litter of twelve, as he had heard). The lass who laughed as she rolled off him and onto the grass might have easily changed his mind in that moment. 

She was beautiful.

Simply that was what Bungo thought. Her cheeks were red from the sun, her hair fell around her in dark curls and she had softer features than he'd ever seen. 

"I didn't see you there," she gasped, sitting up with a wide smile on her face. Bungo had no idea what to say, just sort of gaped at her. His immediate next thought was about his book, where it had gone. The lass seemed to noticed his lack of attention but it did not bother her. Standing up, she dusted off her dress and then held a hand out. He stared at it with apprehension. "Well it's not going to bite you," she announced, smile widening. 

So he took it, letting her help him to his feet. Now that he had a better look, she could only be in her late tweens. Youthful and impossible pretty, he wanted to pick her flowers to give her (which was a foolish notion, for he'd never met her in his life and there he was, a Baggins thinking of picking her flowers!)

"Belladonna," she said as he gazed at her. Even her name gorgeous despite its meaning, but he'd not seen her in Hobbiton before. Was she a Brandybuck? He decided, then and there, rather rashly for him, that it didn't matter. 

"Bungo," he answered in reply, eyes still wide at her for she then plucked a twig out from her wild hair. When Belladonna laughed, he chuckled and that caused her to smile more. "Would you like to come for supper, perhaps?"

Impulsive was not in his nature, as it seemed and he stared at her in surprise. 

"Oh!" Belladonna looked just as surprised, and he cursed himself. "Sure! I haven't the chance for tea today, I'm starved."

They walked together, quiet except for a small humming from Belladonna. When they came to the small hole, she beamed at it.

"This is nice," she said, but her attention was snagged by the garden. "Oh," she breathed, eyes gone wide. "It's beautiful."

"Thank you," he said quietly, watching the look of awe on her face grow bigger. At that moment, Laura stepped out to go looking for her son but there he stood, pointing at the flowers with a pretty hobbit lass next to him. The sight nearly relieved her, for Bungo finding a lass to marry would get him off her hands.  Not that she did not love her son dearly, but her son did need someone. And the lass? She was quite pretty, though looked like she might have taken a tumble in the dirt. 

"Well," Laura said, smiling widely at the two of them. At that, Bungo snapped his head over to look at her and he had an embarrassed look on his face. Beside him, Belladonna offered the woman a smile she hoped was friendly enough. "Bungo, please invite your friend in! It's rude to keep her standing out here and we were just about to have supper, miss."

When Mungo looked up from the book he'd been occupying himself with (for much like his son, he had a love for written word but not of fantastical sorts), he had to pause slightly at the appearance of not only his wife and son, but a young hobbit lass who could be no more than approaching her thirties. They sat down to dinner shortly there after, and Laura always made more than enough food, so really, Belladonna's intrusion did not interrupt them that much. As the night dragged on, Mungo took care of the dishes and left his wife to attend to their son and the girl.

"I suppose I should head home now," Belladonna announced, grinning sheepishly. Her father wouldn't be upset that she'd been out all night but her siblings would crowd her. And if she told them that she'd met some lad that had invited her for dinner? 

She'd never hear the end of it.

But Laura didn't seem keen on her escaping from their hope so easily. "Oh but dear," she said, frowning slightly. "Would you not stay for dinner as well? I can assure you it would be no trouble."

Belladonna offered the kindest smile she could, before taking a peek at Bungo. He looked slightly flustered, as though his mother asserting her self in his business was too much. 

"I really could not, my father would not be pleased," she lied, before standing up and inclining her head slightly. "Though I would not mind meeting again, Missus...?"

"Oh! Forgive me," Laura looked embarrassed as she stood up. "Laura, Laura Baggins. Do forgive us dear, I don't believe Mungo or I even thought of it. I did not even ask your name!"

"Ah," Belladonna gave a softer smile. "Missus Laura, do not mind it. It is just that my younger sisters expected me home earlier, so I should be on my way," she glanced at Bungo who still looked at the table with red cheeks before she addressed his mother again. "Belladonna."

"Belladonna," she said, softly and then something seemed to click in her mind for she gaped at the girl now. "Belladonna? Belladonna  _Took_?"

"Yes," she started uneasily. She knew not many hobbits in Hobbiton liked the Took family. Caused too much ruckus, according to their claims. And the Baggins family? Not such hobbits as them would allow a Took frolicking around their likes. 

"Then you certainly should leave," Laura urged, eyes narrowing slightly. With those words, Bungo frowned and glanced up. He had been processing the information. The pretty hobbit lass, Belladonna, was not a Brandybuck, but a Took... "I would rather you did that this very moment."

( _"That's not nice!" Ori had stopped writing, his eyes wide as he looked at Bilbo. "Why would she say that? Can't she see that they like each other?"_

 _Bilbo let out a slight sigh. "I don't think you would understand it even if I explained it."_ )

While he had protests to his mother sudden and rude upheaveal of Belladonna out of the hobbit hole, Bungo still had to process the fact that she was a Took, of all things, and that left him with little to do but mope about the next few days after she left. 

But there was little to worry about. For the next few weeks, Belladonna would come walking along the Hobbiton roads and it became a natural occurrence to see her there in that part of the Shire. Of course, now he knew she truly lived in the Great Smials of Tuckborough. It was not terribly far away from his own home, which meant that the trip did not mean it was out of the ordinary but Bungo had seen her quite a lot more than before their meeting. 

It was on yet another impulsive whim that he spent a month in his garden, picking out each and every single flower that reminded him of her. His mother noticed, but Laura had by this time given up on her son. If he was to disgrace her by courting the Took girl, there was nothing she could do about it now.

So when he set off, an entire wheelbarrow of flowers in front of him, Laura Baggins threw her hands up with a sigh and went to calm down her husband, who was certainly more upset than her. 

Now, Bungo came up the road that spiraled into Tuckborough with his wheelbarrow of flowers. The Great Smials were a grand affair, many of the hobbits apperciated them despite the fact that not many of them found the Tooks altogether pleasant. He had to pause and admire them, and because of this he did not notice the young hobbit lass staring at him curiously. This girl was the younger sister of Belladonna, Mirabella and she was only just twenty, so much like her sister she had a great interest in things. 

Particularly a hobbit lad coming up to their home with a wheelbarrow of flowers!

"Hello," she bounded up to him, smiling wide. "What on middle-earth are you doing with all those flowers, mister?"

Bungo regarded the younger hobbit with as much dignity as he could. Much had been said of the Took family to him. Though as he looked at this girl, her face happy and her smile wide, nearly a copy of Belladonna but not nearly as beautiful, he could not imagine they were all that bad. 

"Hello," he replied, tightening his hands on the wheelbarrow. "I'm sorry, but would you have happened to see Belladonna around?"

"Hm," she replied. This girl had to be about Longo's age, now that he thought about it. Hobbits this age tended to be extremely mischievous, even Baggins. "Bella? Not sure, she's been shut up for the last week in her room. Think she's mooning over some boy," but then her smile turned sly. "Are you that boy?"

"Well," Bungo replied nervously. 

Mirabella grinned wider at him before turning and shouting, "Isengar!" Out of nowhere came another hobbit, a few years younger than the girl before him and he stared up at Bungo in suspicion. 

"You that Baggins fellow, huh," Isengar said, sizing up Bungo now. Then he dragged his gaze unto the flowers that he'd brought and he gaped in surprise. "Whoa."

A silence fell over Bungo and the two Took siblings before they shared a look, and linked their arms. "Bella's too young to be courted, you know!" 

"Well I," Bungo started, cleared his throat and put on a determined look. He had come all this way and he wasn't going to be turned away by some barely tweens. "I am here to see her and I don't have time for the likes of you two bothering me about it!" He felt smug for all of a minute, as the two shared a look and then snickered. 

"Right, right," Mirabella said, waving a hand at him. "Papa would probably like to see you before you go barging inside with so many flowers for his eldest daughter, you know."

Not a moment after Isengar had gone running did the Thain come out, eyebrows raised as his youngest son and child dragged him toward a hobbit with a wheelbarrow of flowers. But Gerontius was not like Mungo or Laura, and he simply stared at Bungo for a few moments.

"So you are the boy my Belladonna has been upset over in her room all day," he said finally. Like Isengar had, he seemed to be sizing the hobbit up before he did seem satisfied. Especially with the flowers. "Bungo Baggins."

"Yes sir," he squeaked out.

"Well. Go on, don't leave her waiting anymore, it would do some good for my daughter," Gerontius said with a wave of his hand. "And you."

That was how the courtship started. Bungo brought the flowers into the room and the delighted shriek of Belladonna was a melody to the entire Took families ears. It took a while to braid the flowers into her hair, and even then it was only a third or so of the flowers. The rest were preserved, put into vases or planted outside of her window.

( _"Hang on, hang on," Fíli cut in. Bilbo gave him a withering look. "Flowers?"_

_"Yes, flowers," he snapped. "I know you all think hobbits silly, but flowers mean quite a lot and the first step of courtship in the Shire is to present your intended with flowers. Which you chose to give them is important as well, every flower has a meaning."_

_"And you braid them into their hair?" Kíli asked, eyes wide._

_"Not always," Bilbo said. "Sometimes they just make flower crowns, it depends on how many flowers you give. That's the announcement part though."_

_Ori scribbled quickly._ )

It went on like that for quite a while. Their courtship was slow-going. Belladonna had always lived her life fast-paced, but she did not mind slowing down for Bungo. Many hobbits agreed that the two seemed opposites, but fit together like they'd been broken from the same stone. It was known that she could not cook for her life and once almost poisoned him when attempting to make food during their courtship.

After that, they both agreed it was best that Bungo took care of cooking in the future. Various times, Belladonna invited him to dance and it was quite reckless of them to dance around the way they did (Laura had to cover Mungo's eyes before he fainted in surprise) though Gerontius seemed mostly delighted that his daughter had found her love.

Now, it is important to understand that Mungo refused to house his son's future wife in their house. As much as they had grown used to the idea, neither he nor his wife truly wanted to have a Took in their home. But when it had been suggested, Bungo had refused to move into the Great Smials.

This was no great offense, for he could just not imagine leaving Hobbiton.

But then he had a brilliant idea. Bungo decided that he would build her a home if they could not be together in either of their family's. It was a great gesture of him, surprising nearly every hobbit they knew. However, she was keen on the idea and agreed to fund it (for the Took family was rather rich).

By the time they married, though Belladonna was still not of age yet, the home had been completed. Many people envied it, especially its fine gardens and how well carved it was. 

-

"And they lived happily ever after, to the end of their days," he announced, opening his eyes back up. Over their heads, Bilbo locked eyes with an approaching Dís. 

"Oh but," Fíli said, frowning. "Is that it?"

"I don't expect you want to hear any more small details about Belladonna and Bungo," he said, though smiled to know that his practical nephews were so interested in his parents. "As I said, hobbit courting is not all that interesting. Flowers, food, dancing, that's really all there is!"

Ori glanced up, seemed to be thinking and then laid his quill down.

"Did they have any children?"

"I bet they had fourteen!"

"Or just ten, doesn't that number seem too large?"

"But Belladonna's father had twelve!"

The three turned their heads in the direction of Bilbo, who was smiling into his wrist. "How many children did they have?" Kíli urged.

"One," Bilbo said. "Just a son."

"What!" Fíli huffed, crossing his arms. "But Gerontius had twelve. One by Dwarf standards is fine, but it sounds like by hobbits that is just... pathetic! Why did they only have one?"

The hobbit looked amused at the three of them. He hadn't expected them to be this interested, but Dís was practically upon them and soon the two princes would be dragged back into doing things they liked to avoid. Bilbo felt a duty to give them just a bit more information. "I suppose they only wanted one child," he said, trying to remember why his mother hadn't wanted more children. "You know, if I were Belladonna, I wouldn't want to have so many children if I grew up with that many brothers and sisters. Anyway, Old Took was a bit of an odd case in this. The amount of children per hobbit is a bit lower than that."

"Old Took?"

"Yes, that's what he is called by the hobbits," Bilbo said, starting to gather up his things. 

"Wait, wait! You mean this is a real story?" Ori gaped at him, picking back up his quill excitedly. 

"I," the hobbit blinked in surprise. "Yes. I hadn't made it up. And neither did my mother, when she told me." Bilbo cleared his throat, glancing down at the sudden heavy feeling on him. He missed his mother terribly, and he missed his father just as much. "But Old Took died when I was barely out of my tweens, I really don't remember much of him besides that he was rather old. Now," he nodded toward Dís, to which the princes groaned. "If you'll excuse me, go ahead with your mother."


	9. Trouble in Mirkwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im assuming based off some information i looked up online that Dale isn't super far away from Erebor and it wouldnt take forever to get there (in fact the information i found suggests its at most 4 miles but Bilbo would be unlikely to travel very quickly)
> 
> for the sake of my own plot, Mirkwood at the time they travel through it has yet to be cleared of its evil and returned to Greenwood.
> 
> apologies for how long this chapter took, i just have had not enough time to sit down and write this out.

The trip to Dale turned out to be much shorter than Bilbo had predicted himself. In his original state of grief months ago, he hadn't realized that it only took but a few hours to travel from the once grand city on the base of the mountain up into Erebor. Both Gandalf and Thorin seemed unhurried and when the hobbit grew tired of walking, they did pull to a stop off the side of the road. During their walking, he kept himself to Gandalf's side. Truth be told, the hobbit still wasn't quite ready to deal with his hurt and well, _Thorin_ in general. It had not gone unnoticed by the others (Gandalf had frowned at him, Beorn had patted his head rather forcefully but Bilbo ignored both acknowledgments and Thorin altogether). And it was on their short stop that the wizard finally addressed the issue. 

"We will likely arrive in the late afternoon," Gandalf said, pointing to the less in ruins city that they could see clearly now. "Bard of Esgaroth will be happy to see you, I am sure."

"It will be nice to see someone other than dwarves and elves," Bilbo said, frowning. He sat, legs folded so that he could rest his elbows on them. They all sat close together, basking in the cool spring breeze and the warm sun. Thorin had managed to sit next to Bilbo, though he found offense in the comment. Only the bit about elves made it slightly better. 

"You will be seldom without seeing one or the other," the wizard said, leveling his stare on Thorin. "Thranduil's Company will be meeting us in Dale," he cleared his throat, "And the Elven King himself will be accompanying us. I hope I do not have to remind you to be on your best behavior regarding him."

"I am not a dwarfling, Gandalf," Thorin growled. 

"Yet you refuse talk with the Elven King," Beorn rumbled, though he did not currently look at Thorin. "It would do you well to remember what I have told you."

When he glanced over, Bilbo had his face hidden in a bowl of food but there was an amused look in his eyes. Surely not everyone was out to get him? It was troublesome. He had even thought he'd been forming a sort of friendship with Beorn, but then the skin-changer had practically told him to make friends with Thranduil! Thorin huffed, resigning to ignore the issue.

"How long do you think it will take to travel through Mirkwood?"

"Considering our distinct advantage of being escorted by the Mirkwood Elves, I'd say no longer than a week. They will not stray from the paths they know well and dealing with any immediate danger is their second objective," Gandalf continued to stare at Thorin. "Their first being that Bilbo makes it out of Mirkwood safely."

The dwarf king had a few things he wanted to say about that, but the wizard continued before he could.

"As I am sure is yours as well. To keep him safe, all the way to the Shire,"  _and back_ , Thorin wished to add but he switched to looking anywhere else but his companions. "It would do best for both of you, to stop ignoring each other."

When he risked a glance, the hobbit had turned away further. Thorin would apologize a thousand times over, crown Fili as King and leave Erebor behind, if it meant Bilbo would just look at him. Maybe even act friendly with Thranduil.

That gave him an idea, despite making him feel a bit sick.

Based on the look upon Bilbo's face when they stood up, they had been roused from their rest stop far too soon for his liking. He lagged behind, for where he normally would have walked beside the wizard, he had fallen back and Thorin walked beside him. Neither of them talked, but the hobbit had a feeling the King counted it as a minor victory. Every so often, the dwarf king would glance back and note the tired look in Bilbo's eyes and the way he trudged tiredly on. 

"If you are tired of walking," Thorin said, catching his attention. "I would carry you."

Really, he thought it was a kind gesture and he would not be burdened to hold his beloved for the last mile of their journey to Dale. But the look the hobbit gave him was not a happy look.

"I'm not a fauntling, I can very much walk on my own," he snapped, speeding up so that he could walk between Gandalf and Beorn. Thorin sighed to himself. Every word he said seemed to be a step forward but then two steps backward with Bilbo's reactions. Though he wanted to try and rectify his wrong-doings, the rest of their journeying to Dale was spent in quietness, with a small conversation between Beorn and Gandalf. 

As Gandalf had predicted, they arrived in the dimming afternoon. Around them, Dale bustled. It reminded Thorin, briefly, of what it had once been when he had been young and had on occasion stole away with Frerin for a marvel at the smaller kingdom that sat just below Erebor. The Men of Lake-town all busied themselves with something, whether it was moving building supply or keeping watch over each other. Around and amid them, Elves appeared and went along with them, offering help to any Man who appeared in need of it.

It didn't take long to notice that they were being given quite a wide amount of space between the group and the rest of the population. Thorin felt an urging rise to turn and snap at them, but a gentle hand on his clenched fist startled him.

Bilbo frowned at him, removing his hand though he did not say anything.

He might have stood there for a while; shell-shocked by being touched by Bilbo, but rather suddenly he was wrenched out of it by the approaching of two figures. Bard the Bowman walked up to them, Thranduil steps behind him. 

"It is good to see you again, Gandalf," the Man offered, along with a small smile. Though it seemed a tad strained, Thorin could understand as restoring ended up being a tiring business and not always encouraging. "And Mister Baggins," to which Bilbo beamed, looking slightly relieved. Bard turned his attention on Thorin. "King Thorin. You are most welcome as well, though I cannot say that Dale has been restored enough to be looked upon just yet."

"That's not why I'm--"

"Well!" Bilbo interrupted, folding his hands together. "I hate to be a bother but we did just walk quite a ways here and I wouldn't mind something to eat before we talked."

"Oh, yes, of course," Bard seemed fine with the interruption, before turning toward Thranduil. "I understand that you wish to leave as swiftly as possible, King Thranduil, but I do believe we are all here to accommodate Mister Baggins."

Thranduil only inclined his head in a nod.  

Even in the midst of restoration, Dale had begun to prosper and with Erebor not far behind it, the break of a party in the darkening twilight seemed not to bother anyone at all. Inside the only building that had been fully restored, many of the men crowded along with a good portion of the elves that had shown up to help, and a few of the Ironhill dwarrows were there. When they'd see the King, they'd bowed in respect, though caught up in trying to out drink elves left them with little to say in regards to the King. 

Which was to say, that Thorin was quite left out of the on-goings of the party until Bard approached him when the Men started challenging Bilbo to a drinking contest (which the hobbit continually refused with a simple, firm shake of his head and a slight smile). It was all quite strange.

"I understand from Gandalf that you are going with Master Baggins all the way to the Shire," he said, standing idly by the king. 

"Yes," Thorin cast a look over toward Bard. 

"I would not think you readily leaving Erebor after only having just claimed it," Bard said, frowning. He must have looked ready to snap something in protest for the man held up a hand. "But perhaps I have misjudged you. After all, in the wake of you apparent death, you have seemed awakened in a more aware state. The wealth you have established on the people here will do us well. I would thank you for that, at least."

It took a few tries, for the thanking had not been something he expected and left him speechless for a few minutes, before he could say anything but, "Where is your Master of Lake-town? I did not think he one to miss any sort of celebration."

"It is odd," Bard said, after a moment. "I gave him a portion of gold, partly to assure him I was not around to take from him his position. We have not seen him since nor heard word."

"Ah," Thorin replied, his gaze darkening. "Then I'm sure you have heard a great sickness lies upon the gold of Erebor, and some may fall easily to its greed."

"Indeed," he said softly in reply, though a quiet blanketed the two then.

Thorin dragged his gaze away from glaring at the dwarrrows trying to drink the elves in over towards Bilbo. Who was smiling widely as he laughed with Tauriel and another elf that Thorin did not know well. Not that he knew any elves well nor did he care to, but it did not please him in the least. He had half a mind of marching over there but was stayed by a voice behind him.

"It'd do you well not to make your situation worse," the voice announced, silky and though Thorin registered who it was, he still turned around. Thranduil stood there, hands behind his back and his son by his side. Where Bard had disappeared to, the dwarf king hadn't a clue but he was unfortunately no longer there. 

Thorin might have cursed him, if he were not cursing the Elven King first. 

"Thranduil," he drawled, narrowing his eyes. He might have felt a tad better if he had his own heir beside him, but Fili had the matters of Erebor now. No, instead he had a plan of action to put in place. Sighing heavily through his nose, Thorin attempted not to simply blow off the elf. 

"I was not altogether pleased to know you would be accompanying us," he said. Thorin could agree with that statement. "Though I am quite curious as to why." 

A flicker of a smirk on the king's face, though he reigned it in before more than that could show. Heaving yet another sigh, the dwarf king crossed his arms over his chest and raised his chin slightly. 

"Bilbo is one of my dearest friends and without him I would be nowhere but dead," he kept his voice steady, his gaze heavy on the elf. "Assuring his safety would be my only purpose here, if you do care so much to know."

"Oh, I am sure." 

“What,” he stated, eyes narrowing at the Elf.

“A King spends his whole life toward this, gaining back his kingdom and then,” Thranduil raised his brows and lips up in some odd amused gesture. “And then he simply leaves it behind to make sure a friend gets home safely? Yes, that does sound completely normal.”

There was more Thorin wanted to speak, though much of it might be considered quite a bit ruder and not at all helpful for his own purpose. The two kings held gaze, until the entire reason for Thorin's plan came marching over behind Tauriel. The swing of the she-elf's hair alerted the dwarf king, particularly to the three braids that stood out against the rest. 

Thorin had taken the air in, a word about rolled off his tongue but Thranduil simply began talking without so much as a warning. 

"I have heard you have been denying a drink with my people, Master Baggins, I am inclined to inquire why you do so," Thranduil spoke, but his voice was smooth and charming, nothing like how he regarded Thorin when he talked. It was far too friendly for Thorin's liking. "I assure you we do enjoy our drinks."

"Oh, well," Bilbo gave a shrug, smiling slightly as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his waistcoat. "I did not want to embarrass them."

"Oh?" A tone of  _mirth_ , for Mahal's sake. 

"Wouldn't you know it, hobbits have a taste for ale and considering that is what the Men have at this time, I do not think it would be fair to drink any elf under the table, as I could!" Bilbo chuckled and next to him, Tauriel smiled. "In any case, I believe that we are scheduled for leave bright and early, so it would do me a better service if I went off to bed now."

"As it would," Thranduil agreed, openly smiling down at the hobbit. "I believe it would do a great deal of good for everyone, hm, wouldn't it, Thorin?"

The King turned heavily on his heel, ignoring Thranduil and the rest of the group that had amassed itself there. With that move, he missed the confused, slightly concerned look Bilbo shot his back. As well with that, Thorin missed the amused look the Elven King had on his face but by that time he had stomped off toward a room with no other words. 

-

True to the word of the hobbit, they rose even before the sun had graced the horizon. For Thorin, it was far too early to be up and moving around, but he managed on keeping his eyes open. But it appeared as the elves did not mind. The company that had been designed on escorting Bilbo consisted of: King Thranduil, Prince Legolas, Captain Tauriel and at least ten other elves. Besides them, of course, there was Bilbo, Thorin, Gandalf and Beorn. 

It made a small enough group for safety though Thorin did not like the idea of dealing with thirteen elves for what was like a long week. 

And though it did drag on, nothing eventful happened in the first days of their traveling through Mirkwood. They'd been wished off safely, packed well with provisions that would keep them through the small journey. Along with their elven guides, now they were able to follow the Elf road that broke through Mirkwood. 

The first concern came off of Gandalf. As they walked, every so often a worried, troubled look would pass over the wizard’s face. Even Beorn seemed like he wanted out of the forest before the week they'd predicted.

Only Bilbo, out of the four of them, acted unconcerned as he walked along with Tauriel and Legolas. 

The elves, for their part, always were on alert and any of their reactions could not be taken in truth for whether it might be true trouble or just the sight of spiders that caused them action. 

About halfway through the journey, the hobbit drifted back toward Thorin. He thought it just coincidence that Bilbo had fallen behind and would soon realize it, he would speed back up to Tauriel's side. When he did not, the king stiffened slightly and eyed him warily. 

"I am not yet forgiving you," Bilbo announced, but he still held his voice quiet and this in itself startled him. "But everyone else walks longer strides than I can and I'm tired of trying to stay up with Tauriel and Prince Legolas."

Thorin nodded in reply, but relief swam in his mind. Not forgiven or not, the hobbit still saw him as a suitable travel companion or at least someone who he could walk with. Even that made him slow his own strides slightly, hoping that it would give Bilbo time to regain whatever energy he had lost. He might have even been a touch happier, but the pouch in his pocket weighed heavier. 

They were but two days from emerging out of Mirkwood when it happened. 

Bilbo had gone back walking with Tauriel, Gandalf joining them this time and Beorn had fallen to Thorin's side. Despite the ongoing conversation he had going with the skin-changer (about how long they might spend in his halls, as there was no rush really to this journey), the dwarf king had his eyes always on Bilbo no matter where he was. It hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of the company, especially not Tauriel and Legolas who all but found it amusing. 

Everyone was thoroughly distracted when it happened, for while Beorn and Thorin discussed plans, the elves were talking happily of a party when they had safely deposited the hobbit out of Mirkwood and Gandalf and Thranduil were in the midst of some lengthy conversation.

The spiders attacked while they were making camp, Thorin distracted by attempting a conversation with Tauriel. He had figured she would be easier to approach than Thranduil, especially considering her feelings for his sister-son. Besides that, she knelt next to Bilbo while the elves started up a fire. When he approached, she glanced at him and then stood up slowly. Thorin held up a hand, stopping a foot from them. 

Just as he opened his mouth with a plain greeting, a terrible screeching noise interrupted him.

In mere moments, two elves of the ten others were standing by Tauriel, their bows drawn and pointed into the trees. Bilbo still crouched down and he gave a worried noise, fingers touching the sheath of Sting. With instinct, Thorin held a hand on Orcrist. 

"What was that?" He demanded, though Tauriel did not look back as she drew her own bow. 

"Spiders, likely," stated one of the elves, turning her eyes on him. "We scouted the area earlier, there is no nest nearby but that doesn't mean they wouldn't venture out towards the group."

"Rhawen," the other elf said, looking slightly irritated. "Do not take your eyes off of the the trees. If anything happens to the halfling under our watch, the King will have our heads."

"It would do you well, Thandor, if you respected your sister," Tauriel said, but like him she kept her eyes on the trees before them. Something rustled and Bilbo let out a startled noise. "Everything will be fine, Bilbo, please keep calm."

And then, along with Thandor, Tauriel disappeared suddenly into the trees. He half expected the other elf to disappear as well but she simply slipped in front of Bilbo, leveling her bow at the trees again. Slowly, he drew Orcrist. It was highly unlikely that he would need use of it as the elves seemed intent on keeping harm from coming anywhere near Bilbo but he had his own doubts. 

Elves were not to be trusted, still.

Bilbo stood up, staggering slightly in his fright and he gripped Sting's sheath as he backed up toward Thorin. When his back hit the dwarf's chest, he let out a squeak but the King put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. This did not seem entirely relaxing or assuring for the hobbit but it did force him into drawing out Sting. 

Which was a good decision as before Rhawen could defend herself and them, several spiders sprung down from within the trees.

They did not, however, care for the elf and they surged around her in complete ignorance of her appearance. Had it not been so surprising, it might have given them the advantage but the elf struggled with figuring out why the spiders ignored her in favor of circling around Bilbo and Thorin. 

"What are they doing?" Thoirn yelled over them, for once hoping that the elf paid attention. 

"I don't know," her voice sounded grave, but more confused. "We've never seen them do this. They just attack, they don't..." But she trailed off and he could hear dimly the sound of arrows being fired. Just below that, the spiders were  _whispering_  fervently and they seemed entirely too focused on the hobbit for Thorin's liking. 

"Has it, he does," muttered one of them, coming closer but not close enough as Bilbo brandished Sting then. 

"Got a sting," grumbled another spider, hissing when Thorin curled an arm around Bilbo. The spiders did not like this turn of events. Perhaps they had expected an easy snack, the small hobbit didn't look like he could fight much, Thorin did not know but he wasn't going to chance it. 

Neither were the elves, as the spider that crept closer and closer now despite Sting's presence fell and Rhawen stepped over it with a frown. One by one the spiders that had closed themselves around the two were taken down, screeching but no others came. 

The hobbit slumped back against Thorin, breathing in relief and letting Sting hand loosely in his fingers. It was that which did them in. 

Rhawen had turned her head, looking around them as the elves continued on defending their small encampment from the spiders. At that point, Thorin had let go of Bilbo and was leaning against Orcrist, staring down the bodies of the spiders. That was likely why neither of them noticed, nor Bilbo, the spider that dropped down suddenly and on top of said hobbit. 

A shriek alerted them both and before Rhawen could do more than string her bow, the dwarf had launched himself toward the spider assaulting Bilbo. Orcrist drove swiftly into the spider and he kicked furiously as it until it came rolling away and he did not quit attacking the spider until Tauriel reappeared with Thandor in tow.

"We found the nest," she started and then faltered, eyes roving over the mess of the spider and the shuddering hobbit on the ground. Her eyes focused on Thorin for a moment, who breathed heavily as he looked up. 

"Is everything alright over here?" Legolas approached, frowning at the scene before him. Rhawen looked shaken up, while Tauriel and Thandor continued processing the scene themselves. On the ground, Bilbo took in a shuddering breath. "What happened?"

"It came out of nowhere," the dwarf king said slowly, his eyes on the corpse of the spider. Though he frowned deeper, the elf prince turned his face towards Tauriel now.

"Did you destroy the nest?"

"Yes, it was relatively small and empty, though I can see now  _why_  it was nearly empty."

The two continued on in their conversation, voices worried the more they talked but Thorin turned them out and knelt down by Bilbo. Shaking like a leaf, he didn't notice the dwarf or at least register who it was as he simply leaned into him when the king was close enough for him to. 

From there, Thorin had the chance to look him over and found that while there was no immediate injury, Bilbo had grown cold. And pale, among other things, those two combined with the shaking and shuddering were not a good indication of his state. 

"We need to move on," Legolas said, directing his words toward Thorin. "Any other spiders in the area will find this and if we're here when they do," the prince shook his head, and then leaned down toward them. "He is in shock, I am sure Master Baggins will be fine when he no longer sees so many spider corpses. Or smells them."

Though he glowered at the prince, the dwarf did stand up slowly and helped Bilbo to his feet, where the hobbit stumbled right into his side. A check over the company revealed that all the members were intact, and excluding Bilbo none of them looked as if the attack had taken much out of them. Thranduil cast his gaze back toward them, eyeing Bilbo before ordering the company forward. 

The going this time was much slower, as no one looked all the inclined on picking up the pace when Bilbo couldn't move extremely fast. However, he had gathered some of his wits about him and when he did; the hobbit managed pushing Thorin away from him. Legolas joined him in walking, and they stayed a few feet in front of Thorin. 

It was all very slow-motion for Thorin, who hadn't yet to remove his eyes from Bilbo and he did watch with dismay as the hobbit suddenly slowed down and then staggered on his feet, before slumping over and falling hard onto the ground. So it would be no surprise that he was kneeling there in a matter of seconds, shifting Bilbo up into his arms worriedly. Tauriel appeared, looming over his shoulders.

"Thorin," she said, nothing more than that, but it held quite a deal more than. He clutched desperately to the hobbit and even when he hissed his name, nothing happened. Bilbo nearly looked lifeless, but for the faint, erratic breaths. 

"Let my father through," Legolas could be heard and then the shuffle of feet as what was probably most of the elves moving awkwardly around so that Thranduil could kneel down as well by Bilbo. 

"If you would let me look at him," Thranduil demanded, but Thorin scowled, drawing Bilbo closer to his chest. "King Thorin. If you wish him to live you must let me look at him, I am not keen on letting him die here because of your stubbornness."

After a moment of more scowls and glares, he did let go of Bilbo slowly and then Thranduil had pulled him out Thorin's grasp. The hobbit appeared so limp, transferring easily between kings. He clenched his fist, closing his eyes and breathing in to calm himself down. While he had calmed himself, he could hear the elf muttering under his breath and then he stopped, which forced Thorin to crack open one of his eyes. 

"It is as I thought," Thranduil said, vaguely before looking up. "Gandalf."

"Yes," the wizard agreed, approaching them now. "Can you do anything?"

Thranduil shook his head, but petted a hand over the auburn curls for a few moments before looking up again. Tauriel and Legolas stood closest beside Gandalf and he seemed to be caught in looking at them for quite some time. It was not good to waste time like this and Thorin had half a mind to act then but the king shifted and stood up. 

"Tauriel, Legolas," he said, pacing towards them. "You are the fastest. I expect you would be able to deliver Master Baggins safely out of Mirkwood within the matter of hours?"

"We would," Tauriel said, holding out her arms to receive Bilbo. Tucked comfortably in her arms, Thorin watched with dismay as they turned with nods and disappeared, sprinting down the road. Legolas on her heels with his bow drawn was the last he saw of them before Mirkwood seemed to close around them.

"I should have gone with them," he snapped when Thranduil had turned back around. 

"You would but slow them down," the Elven King said, crossing his arms behind his back. "Do not be selfish. They can push out of the forest faster than you would dream of. Outside of the darkness in Mirkwood, Master Baggins will not fade quickly. I would advise for you to reach Rivendell as swiftly as possible if you wish to save his life."

Thorin glowered at him. He wished to know what ailed Bilbo then, besides the shock but that should have dissolved when spiders were no longer present (and it had for the most part). 

"Tell me why he needs rushing out of this dreadful place," he spat, anger surging up within his chest. However, Thranduil was not the one to answer him. 

"The darkness that lies upon the forests of Mirkwood has grown worse, Thorin," Gandalf said, dragging the King's attention to himself. "For their part, the Elves have little problem with it. But gentlefolk like hobbits cannot handle the amount of darkness and sickness it holds. I fear that the conflict you two are under has made Bilbo more vulnerable to it. Out of Mirkwood, he will be safer but he is extremely sick with it."

Slowly, very slowly, Thorin sunk to the ground. It was  _his_  fault. He'd been foolish to not watch his words and now he would pay for it more dearly than he had thought. 

"Lord Elrond," Gandalf continued. "Is an excellent healer and he will be able to heal the damage that may be done to Bilbo. But we cannot dally in the woods if we wish to save him. Get up, Thorin Oakenshield, or we will leave you here." 

It took him several moments before movement would come easily, but then the King was on his feet and trudging slowly behind Gandalf and Beorn. 

"I thought you were to take care of this issue, Gandalf," Thranduil stated, appearing next to the wizard suddenly. 

"The White Council had plans to take care of the presence at Dol Guldur much earlier, but there were issues," Gandalf sounded far more than just apologetic. "I assure you that our first movement will be to do exactly that, perhaps even before Elrond has the chance to heal Bilbo."

"I hope that is what you do," Thranduil sounded  _grave_ , something other than bored in his tone. "Regardless, we must focus on meeting Tauriel and Legolas outside of Mirkwood. It is possible we can arrive there at the end of this day," he said slowly, casting a look back at Thorin. "If we hurry and do not stop no matter what."

True to his word, the edge of Mirkwood did come into view as what Thorin had regarded as night began to droop on the company. Though less rushed, the elves still moved quickly and with purpose. Now they had to ensure the safety of Gandalf, Thorin and Beorn. 

But they stopped there, Thranduil looking around the edge of the forest as if he were looking for something that should have been there. He seemed to find it a moment later, coming back toward Gandalf and Thorin with a more satisfied look upon his face. 

"We can stay in the spot for the night, then when dawn breaks will we search out my son," the King said, ignoring the glare Thorin had sent his way. "The more energy you have when we find them, the easier time you will have making it to Beorn's and then through the Misty Mountains. Despite your apparent plans for resting in his halls, Beorn has already agreed with me on this."

"What," Thorin started slowly but the skin-changer had approached them as if he had heard his name. "What is the meaning of this? Bilbo needs to rest before we try to cross the mountains!"

"He cannot," Beorn said with a shake of his head. "It is that you arrive in Rivendell immediately. I can do nothing for little bunny and the sick that had taken him. Lord Elrond may be the only solution, if there is one at all."

Though angered yet, Thorin did resolve to wait and gain back what energy he could. Sleep would be restless but he somehow found himself not near Gandalf as he had intended. Rhawen and Thandor sat by him, their eyes roaming over the forest's edge. The camp had been set up just outside of it and worry on the elves' face suggested that any remaining spiders might dare attack them during the night. 

Somehow out in the broad land between Beorn's Halls and Mirkwood, Bilbo clung barely to life and Thorin couldn't find it in himself to sleep without nightmares. 


	10. Between Elves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter would be out on friday but things have been pretty busy so here it is now!!

With a shock and gasping for air, Bilbo woke. 

The fright he had felt and that had caused him to shock awake came from a terrible nightmare that while plagued his mind for a minute or so when he awoke, fled from his mind and he could no longer remember enough of it. Something about his ring and... a small child that he did not know, but had felt extremely close to. Shaking, he felt hands tighten on him. In his nightmare, there had been cloaked riders that had closed in around them and he whimpered but the hands did not relax.

"Thorin," he cried out, not coherent enough to do anything but yell for the dwarf that had been by his side in the last few months. 

"Would you quit holding him so tight?" A voice snapped, and Bilbo had an inkling he knew that voice but not from where. "He's had a fright and you are scaring him!"

The hands clutching him did loosen and then disappeared completely, which was rather a relief to the hobbit. But he kept his eyes closed, still shaken up and not wishing to know what sort of captors were before him. The last he remembered he'd been walking with Tauriel and then, well, then  _nothing_. He furrowed his brow in frustration, but decided on a safe route.

If his captors were malicious, he wanted to spare the elves of them, but he needed to know something. 

"Where's Thorin?" His voice came out in a rasp now that he could focus on things and hear it. A light conversation passed between the two and then a voice came from above him, from the one holding him. 

"King Thorin is nearby, Master Baggins, please do not worry. We thought it best that you were not overwhelmed when you woke up," and with a slight headache approaching, Bilbo did take this voice in. Legolas. 

He cracked his eyes open, wincing at the bright afternoon sun that winked down at him. Besides that, he could see the prince looking down at him with a worried expression on his face. Merely the sight of someone friendly and familiar made him relax and then he caught Tauriel standing by them. She offered up a smile for him and when he returned it, she knelt down to look at him closer. 

"I am glad to see you are awake, we were worried," she said and her words confused him. Now that he was taking it in, Bilbo startled when he realized that they were not in Mirkwood and the edge of the forest could be barely seen on the horizon. He hadn't remembered making it out of the forest. "Thranduil," she greeted to the approaching figure that the hobbit didn't take notice of until she had called out his name. 

"It is a relief to see you have woken, Master Baggins," the King said as he knelt down by them as well. When Bilbo tried to shift away from Legolas, to stand up, a hand from the Elven King stayed him. "Do not move. You are not well, despite your awake state. I will call over Gandalf and King Thorin, then you may set off for Beorn's Halls. Unfortunately, you will not be staying there but for a brief rest. I have already sent word to Lord Elrond and you will likely be rushed through the Misty Mountains to Rivendell."

"Well," Bilbo said with a frown. "I feel fine! Please let me up."

"Absolutely not," Thranduil said, eyes narrowing. "You are quite sick and only Elrond can help this, I am afraid. If I could do anything in this moment, I would."

The hobbit stared at the Elven King for a long while. He could see Gandalf and Thorin approaching now, but they were far away enough that he could not tell what the expressions on their faces were. With a resolved sigh, Bilbo turned his head back towards the elves.

"Where are my things? I need something from them," he demanded. Tauriel disappeared and came back with his pack, setting it down. His friends were fast approaching and Bilbo dug around in his pack until he pulled a closed, small box from within. The three elves looked on it with interest. But Bilbo turned to Thranduil, focusing his attention on the King. "I beg of you to accept this gift," he stuttered his words slightly, eyes focusing on a spot behind the Elf. When he opened up the box for the King to see, it was a necklace of silver and pearls, something that he had taken from within the treasure and Thorin had given no mind to. 

Thranduil's eyes were wide. 

"In what way have I earned such a gift?" Bilbo feared briefly that he would not accept it, but the elf seemed inclined to understand _why_  it was being given to him first before taking it. 

"Well, er, I thought, don't you know," he started, focusing harder on the Elf King as Thorin and Gandalf were within hearing range now. They slowed down, watching the exchange with befuddled looks. "That, er, some return should be made for your, er, hospitality? And help," he added, nervously. "I mean even a burglar has his feelings. I have drunk much of your wine and eaten much of your bread."

There might have been a crinkle of amusement to Thranduil's eyes for a moment but it passed and then he gingerly took the box. 

"I will take your gift, Bilbo," he said gravely. His eyes lingered on the hobbit for a long while before he smiled and bowed his head. "And I name you elf-friend and blessed. May your shadow never grow less. Farewell. I do hope that there might be a slight chance we could ever meet again."

"Hm," he responded confused. "I don't see why we would not."

An odd look passed over the King's face then, but he simply gave a short nod and then stood up. True to his farewell, Thranduil disappeared along with his company but not before Tauriel wrapped Bilbo in a tight hug. 

"Oh!" Bilbo looked embarrassed as if he had forgotten something up until now. "I'm terribly sorry, I completely forgot to give you my congratulations."

But the elf shook her head. "I wouldn't worry much about that, Bilbo. Do stop stalling and let them take you to Lord Elrond. I don't desire to report to Kíli that his treasured adopted uncle died because he was too busy giving out gifts and congratulations to get himself help."

Bilbo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest which caused Tauriel to laugh before she leaned and pressed a soft kiss to his honey curls. 

When she had left, then it was just him and his remaining traveling companions. Beorn looked relieved, though he did not move from where he stood. Ignoring the words from the elves earlier, the hobbit started to struggle up onto his feet but a stronger hand fell on his shoulder. 

With a frown, he locked eyes with Thorin. Before their fight, he might not have minded the dwarf attempting to help him but now it just felt like the King pitied him and at every turn tried to help the poor hobbit. Well! He could certainly take care of himself. With that thought, he shoved off Thorin's hand and missed the confused look as he swiftly turned his head away and watched the retreating backs of the elves. 

"I don't need any help," Bilbo grumbled. 

"Did you not hear the Elven King? You should not be moving about. Let me help you," Thorin begged. That caused the hobbit to pause, gaze hardening on the ground in front of him.

"And when did you come to go by Thranduil's words?"

"When it concerns your safety!" Thorin growled, but did not make any more moves toward Bilbo after that.

In fact, he turned away and stomped over to Gandalf, as if sulking. All Bilbo thought about that was that the dwarf acted quite like a fauntling who hadn't been allowed to stay up for a party (although such things were rare as fauntlings were well looked after later in the night). Thinking he'd be fine with Thorin off his behind, the hobbit began to struggle to his feet until a sudden dizziness swept over him. Stumbling, he fell back against something hard and let out a disgruntled noise as he was swept high into the air. 

"Oh," he breathed, his heart hammering like a rabbit's as he gazed down at the ground, far far away from him. Beorn patted his head lightly.

"There, little bunny," the skin-changer rumbled. "We should make way to the Halls before it grows dark."

There was a simple agreement among the other members of their party and considering now Bilbo had little say, they were off. Not that he minded. He thought of the warmth of the halls and the prospect of food besides  _cram_ and he quite liked the taste of honey. Perhaps he could manage Beorn to part with a jar or two, to bring home to Bag End. It would do well there, although he would have to keep it out of sight from other hobbits as they would no doubt want a taste. So lost in thought, the hobbit did not notice how quick they made it to Beorn's Halls and up until he settled his feet back on the ground, did Bilbo become alert that night had fallen and they were standing in the large yard. 

Wobbling slightly, Bilbo neglected to push off the large hands that settled on his shoulders. No, he had grown quite tired despite the little effort he had expended that day. Bilbo suspected it was simply that he had spent so much time in that dreadful forest and could but exhaust himself with wonder at daylight and flowers under his feet. Even with those thoughts, he felt a sort of oddness and a bit sick, though not so in the sense that he wanted to be sick. 

It was disheartening but pushing it away, the hobbit let Thorin guide him into a room where he simply curled up on the bed with a sigh. It was soft and it took him quite quickly into sleep, though his dreams riddled with the same frights as they had earlier in the day. 

When the dwarf king stepped back out into the yards of Beorn, he found Gandalf and Beorn discussing quietly. They talked in a hurry as he approached and as he came closer, Gandalf greeted him with a nervous smile.

"We must set out swiftly," he said when Thorin stopped by his side. "In the morning, if we wish to save Bilbo's life."

 "Is it so bad?"

"I fear so, and I am afraid that we may not be able to make it to Rivendell in time if we fall behind even a moment," the wizard looked disturbed, which caused Thorin's face to darken. If they were scrambling for time, why were they wasting the night away?

"Then we should leave now!" Thorin snarled, anger growing.

"I think not. Bilbo should recover before we attempt the mountains. Even a little energy would do him well," Gandalf frowned but turned slowly toward the halls that Beorn had disappeared back into. "It would do us all well."

With a sigh, Thorin followed the wizard into the hall. They were quiet now, the animals having quieted back down and Beorn gone yet again from where he had been but moments ago. Bidding him a good night, Gandalf walked further in the halls. Now that he was left alone the king had little idea what to do. He could simply find a room and rest, but his thoughts still caught on Bilbo and the worry there would not let him rest.

Finding the room again was little trouble, and he stepped into the room easily. In the dark, had he been any other but a dwarf he might have not been able to see, but there lay Bilbo, sleeping. For a moment, it seemed as if were peaceful but then, with a little panicked noise, his face contorted into one of apparent fear. When he whimpered, Thorin found himself instantly beside the quivering form of the hobbit. 

"Bilbo," he murmured, keeping his voice on the edge of a whisper. 

A whimper followed the calling of his name, which seemed to shake Bilbo out of his dreaming. However, he woke in a panic and flailed for air while Thorin tried to avoid the limbs that waved frantically in the air. Unfortunately, he could not avoid the rapid flailing completely and a hand smacked him in the face. 

"Ah," Bilbo squeaked out, recovering his mind and rubbing at his face as he took in a few breaths to calm himself down. Since Mirkwood, his mind when he slept had been plagued with terrors that left him nearly sobbing when he woke. Always, it was of finding Thorin dead... or Fíli and Kíli, even at times all three of him. In this dream, however, there had yet again been a child, a small fauntling that had always been accidentally underfoot, with bright blue eyes and a mess of dark curls.

Though the child had a name he could not recall it but he felt a pull in his heart. 

That child was his but... Bilbo could not explain it. He just knew, in his mind, that he had to take care of the child and that his whole life was that child. It was frightening. In the recent years, he had settled with the fact that he'd be a bachelor, that he'd likely never have a child or family of his own. No respectable hobbit-girl would marry him, especially as he hit fifty. Now? That was for certain that he wouldn't. 

But then, he had found a family of his own, among dwarves and to be honest, Bilbo had begun to think that maybe this was where he belonged. Dreams of this child, though, they confused him and something like terror stirred within him.

He registered Thorin a moment later, turning red in the face when he also realized that he had smacked the dwarf in the face in his half-awake flailing. Relief flooded him, however, as the dreams of finding him dead were nothing but that: dreams. And he came to the thought that it likely meant neither Fíli nor Kíli were dead and he relaxed back into the bed with a sigh. 

"I'm sorry," he managed after what seemed like a lifetime of silence. In that time, Thorin had regained his balance and sat on the edge of the bed. Bilbo had allowed him to run his fingers through the long curls, over his ears and lingering on his cheeks. "Frights... I just I had some vivid frights in my dreams," he looked away, staring into the darkness. The last time he had had them they were about his mother and the Fell Winter, and Bilbo simply felt relieved those had not entered his mind during sleep. "Although now I can see they were only there. I'm fine."

"You are safe," Thorin said, hoping to comfort the hobbit. Bilbo offered him a smile, though his concerns were not for himself. His frights never involved him being hurt, for they were only for his mind to find frightened. Briefly, he thought of the child but brushed it off as he settled back down for sleep.

"I'm fine," he repeated.

The morning came too soon, leaving a bleary-eyed hobbit trailing an exhausted dwarf and a far too cheery wizard. Beorn bid them a farewell, wishing them safe trekking through the Misty Mountains and an invitation to visit when they wished. Bilbo promised, smiling tiredly when he was gifted a few jars of the honey after a chuckle or two from both Beorn and Gandalf when he requested them.

His frights following his smacking of Thorin had been worse, more in-depth than before. They had involved the child again, but this time Thorin had been there with the child and he had felt as if that were normal, an everyday thing his mind appeared used to. A name had come to him then, but he could not recall it now.

Disheartening as it was, the hobbit had to ignore it. Things were more important at the moment like crossing through the Mountains and worrying either of them over his frights would likely cause too much trouble. 

"With the Goblins gone," Gandalf said, turning his head over his shoulder for a glance back at his two companions. "The pass through the Misty Mountains should be easier to traverse through. As long as you listen to me, that is."

The look directed at Thorin and he scowled slightly. It wasn't his fault that they'd been captured by goblins! If Gandalf hadn't continuously left them, things would have gone significantly better.

Much of the traveling through the mountains was simple, and did not take long, but it was when they were about half-way through the mountains that Bilbo grew weak as he had little energy to spare. Trekking through mountains did not exactly do well for what little energy they had and his frights had left him with less than Thorin. Stumbling, he fell against the side of a rock. Thorin paused, then made his way back to Bilbo, kneeling down and frowning.

"I'm fine," Bilbo managed, trying to push him away but before he could do much more than weakly shove, Thorin had picked him up. "Thorin! Put me down, I can walk on my own!"

But he was ignored, the dwarf king turning and frowning up at Gandalf. "Tharkûn, he is worse. I thought you said we would make it in time!" The wizard shook his head before approaching them now, eyes narrowing as he laid a hand on Bilbo's forehead. With muttering, he passed his hand over his face and then the hobbit slumped, breaths coming out slowly and steadier.  

"I will fly to Rivendell, as swiftly as I can, Thorin, but I cannot promise we will be able to save him now," Gandalf sighed, a sad look taking over his face. But he said nothing more at the moment, rushing the two inside a cave within the mountains. Thorin stayed by the entrance, watching as the wizard inspected the cave and swept aside dirt before appearing satisfied with the cave. "It will be safe here. Stay here. I will send someone from Rivendell."

With those words, he did disappear past Thorin and out into the darkening night. Eventually, Thorin did move and he went as far back as he could where he could still glimpse the entrance to the cave. Bilbo made no movements, nothing but his steady breaths. 

It was that two nights and a day passed from Gandalf's departure to Rivendell. Within the cave that they'd been restricted to, Thorin could just see the sun as it rose high in the mountains. Beside him, Bilbo shivered every so often but never woke from the relentless sick that had taken him hostage. It worsened during the night, but day did not seem to make it better. He had little time to worry in the following morning, for then came the sound of horse upon stone and the dwarf lifted his head toward the entrance to the cave.  

An Elf swiftly dismounted, moving forward toward them. He moved slowly, as if cautious of the current inhabits of the cave.   

Though the King had been expecting an Elf, as Gandalf said he would send help from Rivendell, his thoughts had been that the elf would look like the Rivendell elves. But no, for the Elf that approached the huddled two looked like he belonged amongst Thranduil’s people. He dressed in armor, and not of the light kind, but his hair fell long down his back and in golden waves.   

Thorin pressed Bilbo into his side, unconsciously.   

"Peace," the Elf said, holding up his hands. Despite his armor, he had no weapons on his being. This did not persuade Thorin. "I am Glorfindel, I reside in the house of Elrond," the elf seemed to sense Thorin's  distrust for he continued on when that information proved unhelpful "Lord Elrond sent myself, upon Mithrandir's request that the halfling be brought immediately to our home."  

"I do not know who that is but I have not yet trusted Lord Elrond to let Bilbo into your care," Thorin said, trying to keep calm.   

"Ah," Glorfindel said. "I believe his common name is Gandalf the Grey."  

"Gandalf!" The dwarf shifted now, revealing Bilbo tucked against his side and Glorfindel knelt down. "Why has he not come back?"  

"There are matters that much be taken care of with haste," the elf said, reaching for Bilbo. When Thorin blocked his attempts, Glorfindel paused and then offered a kind smile. "I reassure you that the halfling will be swift to Rivendell, where my Lord Elrond will heal him. He is the only one who can. Please, King Thorin, if you wish for him to live you will hand him over."  

It took a great effort for him to do so, but then Glorfindel lifted Bilbo effortlessly. Much quicker than he had approached them, the elf made his way out of the cave and to his horse. Thorin kept on his heels, standing by the horse as Glorfindel placed the hobbit there.  

"We must ride swift," he said, securing Bilbo there before looking over the horse's bridle. Until the acknowledgement of them, the dwarf had not noticed the two Elves mounted on horses but a few feet away. They shared a strikingly similar appearance to each other and for the life of him, Thorin could not tell them apart. Perhaps, they even mirrored Elrond? "Elladan, Elrohir, you know the way. I will meet you in Rivendell." 

Before much else could be said and Thorin could understand what was happening, Glorfindel had mounted the horse with ease. With an uttering of words, and an arm secured around Bilbo, the elf disappeared down the road.   

"What," Thorin managed, paling considerably. Bilbo no long was in his sight and it caused him great trouble.   

"Mount with one of us," said one of the elves, who Thorin decided at that moment would be Elladan. "We cannot ride as swiftly as Glorfindel's steed but we will be not far behind him."  

After a moment of consideration, for he did not wish to ride a horse, and definitely not with an Elf, he did manage onto the back of Elrohir's horse. It would be better if they caught up to Bilbo before too long.  That was the only reason Thorin willingly went with them, although he wished to understand who they were and why they had come with Glorfindel.  

They arrived in Rivendell three days later, while the elves did not look exhausted they moved slower and took much longer to dismount their horses. Thorin could barely keep his eyes open, as he had not slept throughout the journey and now he struggled to the ground.  

Elves knew better than to help the dwarf.  

An Elf, by the name of Lindir though Thorin did not know this, descended the stairs and inclined his head to Elladan and Elrohir.   

"My Lord Elrond would see you, but I am afraid he has expended nearly all of his energy and we could not bear to disturb his rest," Lindir smiled openly at the two though he cast a frown at Thorin. "Lord Elladan, he re quested that you take guard over the halfling." 

When Elrohir disappeared within Rivendell, Thorin grew confused. But it seemed that he had mistaken them and now the true Elrohir stood by him.   

"And what would he have of me?"   

"He gave no direct orders, but," Lindir paused, looking at Thorin openly now. “I would not doubt if he had wished for you to keep company with King Thorin until he wakens."  

He might have grown angry but there was no energy left in the dwarf to do so. Instead, Thorin gave Elrohir a weary look. Whatever this communicated to the Elf, he did not know but moments after, Elrohir lead him into Rivendell.   

"King Thorin," he said after a moment, though he kept his eyes forward.   

"Hm ," he grunted, not finding the energy  for more of a response.   

"We have heard tales here from the mouth of travelers, of the Battle that took grounds in between Dale and Erebor," Elrohir paused, clasping his hands behind his back as they looked over Rivendell. "And I am sure Lord Elrond will ask you for the truth of words so I will not ask for the full tale. It has been called the Battle of Five Armies, if I am not mistaken?"  

"Yes," Thorin agreed. It had been referred to as thus for the last few months, although little it was on the tongue of Dwarrows.   

"You aligned yourself with Men and Elves," Elrohir said, turning his gaze toward Thorin now. "That is true as well?"

"It was necessary to keep Erebor safe," he bit out, eyes narrowing. He would not let this Elf think he had forgiven them. No alliance with Thranduil had been made and it would not. "Do not think that I-"

"Tales say as well that you devastated the numbers of the Orcs and those that made it out of the battle were hunted down. I would implore you to tell me this is true."

For a moment, he felt shock in the sudden emotions behind Elrohir's words. The elves were always unemotional, cold to him and yet here Elrohir stood, staring at him and pleading to know the fate of the Orcs.

"The filth were all but wiped out in the battle and yes, I received numerous reports from scouts of Men and Elves that they continued to hunt them after the battle," Thorin held stare with Elrohir then. A great weight seemed lifted off the Elf's shoulders as he dropped them and smiled sadly.

"Then you have my and Elladan's gratitude," he said, before bowing low to Thorin. "You may not be keen on my people," Elrohir kept himself bowed, staring at the ground as thought it was currently the most interesting thing in the world. "But you have done Lord Elrond and us a great service by wiping them from the living world."

He had opened his mouth to question why on middle-earth the Elf even thought he had done anything for them (after all, he'd killed the orcs for himself, for his brother, for his family, for Erebor). But Elrohir suddenly stood up, directing his gaze beyond Thorin's shoulders and at someone else. Thorin turned around, blinking in surprise at Elrond as he approached them.

"Father," Elrohir greeted. That caused Thorin to pause and then look between the two elves in confusion. He could see it know, the similarity between the two, as father and son would have. He'd had no idea that Elrond even had sons.

"Elrohir," Elrond greeted back, before glancing over at Thorin. "King Thorin. I suppose Lindir told you that I was resting." Elrohir nodded and opening his mouth to say something but his father held up a hand. "Go on. I have things I need to talk about with King Thorin."

When the Elf had departed, Thorin raised an eyebrow at Elrond. But the Lord simply bid him follow and they walked quietly through Rivendell. The sun had only just set and it made the place look beyond beautiful, although Thorin would never outright admit that piece of information. Along the way to wherever they were going, many Elves stood about and murmured to each other as Elrond passed by. Apparently, it was quite a surprise to see their lord with a dwarf king. Thorin held his head high, eyes watching as they continued walking until they disappeared within one of the odd... houses that spattered around Rivendell. These must have been Elrond's own chambers. 

Now that he had a better look, Elrond did look as though he might pass out any moment, at least for an Elf. 

"There are things that I should tell you but Gandalf has requested that I not," Elrond bowed his head slightly, then gestured for him to sit down at a small table in the corner of the room. "But I will tell you that you no longer need to worry about the forests of Mirkwood." Thorin frowned at him. He hadn't been all that concerned about the Elven realm. "They sit close to Erebor, and if you ever do plan to work negotiations with King Thranduil, it would do well that the forests were not so wicked."

"I see," Thorin said after a moment. If there was any possibility of an alliance between the Dwarrows of Erebor and the Elves of Mirkwood, the forests being safe to move around in would be a good thing. He could admit that at least. "What of Bilbo? How is he?"

"The halfling will live. I cannot promise when he will wake, but he _will_  wake," Elrond looked pleased. Or relieved, perhaps, Thorin couldn't tell. "You did right to bring him to Rivendell. I believe it was on Thranduil's words?" Opening his mouth, Thorin tried to reject that assumption but Elrond up a hand to silence him. "No matter what, bringing him here was the only way to save him."

There might have been a quiet settled over them but the dwarf didn't desire to be around any elf in a normal moment. Despite Elrond's friendliness and the fact that he had healed Bibo, Thorin couldn't stand to linger there. Not without a reason, at any point and so he inquired on the only other he was truly curious about.

"Your son," he said. Elrond blinked, raising one of his brows in interest. "They have thanked me for killing the Orcs. While I understand dislike of the creatures at a base level, it seemed as though..." But he couldn't find the exact words or muster them out at least. 

"As though they have more reason to be relieved Orcs are all but gone from this world?" Thorin nodded. "They do have their reason. I would even say that it may be of one that you share."

At that, he grew more interested and looked up, eyeing the elven lord with surprise. Elrond was not looking at him, but at something in his hand. After a moment, he looked back up and the look on his face held more grief than he'd thought possible with an elf. But then, as swift as it had appeared, it was gone and Elrond turned his face up.

"Her name was Celebrían. An Elf-lady of Lothlórien, I believe you know of Lothlórien? But she was more well-known to the people around here as the Lady of Rivendell," Elrond paused, bringing a hand up to his chin. "Celebrían was my wife. The daughter of Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. She went to visit her parents in Lothlórien long ago and she took the Redhorn Pass."

"That path is known to be treacherous," Thorin said, frowning now. He did not like the way this information was headed.

"Indeed, and it is. Celebrían was waylaid by the Orcs there," Elrond continued, though his face grew harsh as he talked. "And captured, tortured by them. Elrohir and Elladan... Lady Galadriel sent word when they had not received their daughter as they anticipated. My sons set out and they rescued their mother her, brought her back to Rivendell. I healed her, I'm sure you can understand that I have always been an excellent healer, but."

Elrond slumped forward, startling Thorin.

"She did not wish to stay any longer among us. I do not think she could. Since that day, Elrohir and Elladan have shared deep hatred for Orcs. I suppose I should share their hatred but it has long ago left me," the Elf looked up, frowning. "The destroying of their race from our world is a great relief to them. I do not doubt they would ride eagerly if any are still out there, however."

"Oh," Thorin said, turning his head now to look out along Rivendell. No, he was not feeling sympathy for the elves but... he could understand that hatred. It had not been so long since he had lost a portion of his remaining family to Orcs then nearly lost the rest of it but for the help of elves themselves. Regardless, he pressed a hand to his forehead in irritation. 

Standing up, he made his way out into the night of Rivendell. Elrond stood beside him a few minutes later, looking out over his home with some sort of reverence. 

"When Master Baggins awakens, I will send one of my sons to tell you. But you should rest as well as I should. You have not slept the entire way here, even my sons were practically sleeping on their feet," Elrond pushed him lightly on his lower back and for once, Thorin did not mind the elf lord _that_  much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the book Bilbo gives Thranduil a necklace of silver and pearls upon their farewells and the lines there are practically direct quotes from the scene (though I had to tweak them a bit)
> 
> if you've read LOTR then you might recognize the name Glorfindel (he is an elf of Elrond's who in the book finds Frodo and puts him upon his steed so he can make it to Rivendell and Elrond can heal him). Also I wanted to include Arwen in this but sticking close to the canon of this series, she is not in Rivendell at this time however her brothers appear to be so I used them instead (especially since their past makes for an interesting relationship with Thorin)


	11. The Road Goes On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for how long this took but all i have to say is that this chapter did NOT want to be written, maybe the length will make up for it a bit?

The warmth of Bag End could be easily recognized by the hobbit who had spent nearly all his days in. Though he usually let the fire die before the morning but he supposed on occasion it was alright to let the hobbit hole keep warmer than it might. Something in him told him that it was currently the midst of winter after all, that was why he'd left the fire burning through the night. And that made sense, as well, so for the moment he simply snugged into his blankets. It was cozy, and though he knew he had to have spent every night here, something else told him this was the first time in a while he had found true comfort.

With a frown, he cracked open an eye and then slowly sat up. Bag End sat quiet, not an unusual state. Though at this point, his mind had a hard time comparing what was quite right. A conflicting voice fought back against the quiet, reminding him that no, this quietness in the morning had not been the norm lately. After all... Thorin rose earlier than him, didn't he? Something else murmured at the back of his mind but he fought it off.

After a few moments of debating, Bilbo gave in and shuffled slowly out of bed. It took him a minute to recall where he'd last put his dressing gown but then he'd put it on, yawning as he stepped out of his room. All he thought about was the dishes he hadn't done the night before, how if he did not do them before breakfast they would certainly pile up and he could put off making breakfast long enough to wash them.

Though he paused as he stood in the entrance to his main living room, for there a small fauntling sat on the ground, drawing messily on a paper. His first thought was, well at least it's not the actual floor this time. The dark curls of the boy's hair were tussled, meaning he hadn't yet taken a bath this morning.

The conflicting sides of his mind either disappeared or one took over, whichever it was, he sighed, a fond smile catching on his lips.

"What are you drawing, my lad?" Bilbo crouched down next to the fauntling, who glanced up with wide blue eyes and then quickly splayed his hands over the drawing as to hide it. Hands and fingers were too small to cover it but he didn't look, letting the drawing be 'hid' from him.

"You can't see yet!"

"And why is that?"

"Because, it's a surprise for Uncle Thorin," the fauntling pleaded then, pouting out his bottom lip. A weakness to any hobbit, really. 

"Hm," Bilbo replied. "You don't think I can keep a secret from him?"

"No!" The boy frowned, drawing his eyebrows together. Then, as if he realized something, his face dropped into a more neutral expression, "You're up late."

"Ah, yes," he agreed, leaning over to rustle the dark curls upon his nephew's head. "That's right, apologies, Frodo. I suppose you haven't had any breakfast yet? Or have you been subjected to your uncle Thorin's terrible cooking?"

By the look on his face, Frodo hadn't eaten yet and probably had been putting the dwarf off from attempting to cook. Bilbo grinned and stood up, promising to let the fauntling continue with his surprise drawing and make breakfast before it grew too close to second breakfast. This, this had been a life he'd never expected to have but he woke every morning to a child and his husband, even though the child was his nephew and...

Well he didn't quite like to think about that. 

He'd been in the midst of making the last batch of seedcakes, for Frodo ate a lot as a fauntling and Thorin tended to eat nearly as much, when a knock on the door startled him out of it. No one went to answer it and he figured that they hadn't heard it. In the midst of making cakes, he couldn't be bothered to answer it and whoever it was would just have to come back later! A minute or so passed and the knocking picked up again, causing Bilbo to grumble. His neighbors were usually less pushy than this!

"Thorin, could you get the door?" He called, but no reply and no sound of the door being opened. "Frodo!"

Nothing. With a groaning sigh, for he had only wished breakfast made soon, Bilbo set the last cake down and dusted his hands off before heading towards the door. Wherever his nephew had disappeared to, it was likely with Thorin and he decided against looking for them at the moment. It was rare that either of them got along well with each other. Frodo had only recently adapted to Bilbo, it would take a bit longer for him to handle the dwarf completely. The fact that he had said Uncle Thorin and was drawing him a picture was a big thing, a rather large relief for the hobbit.

Pausing, Bilbo gathered up his wits and took another sigh. It was probably Lobelia and he didn't care to deal with her this early in the morning...

However, when he opened the door, he was not greeted by the sight of his brightly dressed cousin, nor any of his neighbors. The figure at the door had not like anything he had seen before. They were cloaked in dark robes and he couldn't see beyond the hood that dropped over their face. Very little of them could be seen at all and the hobbit frowned, keeping the door shut as tightly as possible. 

The figure breathed out, hissing out something that resembled his name and a sudden fright seized his heart. Bilbo had no idea why, it hit him and he stumbled back. Had his hall been clear, as it should have been and had been but a moment ago, he wouldn't have let go of the door but the back of his foot caught on something, tripping him and he fell onto his back, fingers slipping from the door. 

His sight caught the lifeless form of Thorin, a scream ripping from his throat and he tried scrambling up but then the figure was upon him. It continued to hiss out things, many of which he could not make out, until he heard, _Wake, wake Bilbo Baggins, wake up_.

Shocked awake from a fright did not do well as it was, but because he didn't know where he was when he did, he flailed and cried out more. Until he saw the figure sitting calmly at his bedside and he stilled.

She was, well, extremely enchanting and beautiful, cloaked in white and her pale, blonde tresses cascaded down her back. An Elf, he could tell that, but he hadn’t seen her before and he blinked at her for a moment. Where was he, he wondered. It did not seem that familiar and without knowing the elf before him a sudden, new terror seized him and it might have kept him but for the voice. 

_ You are in Imladris, the Last Homely House East of the Sea, Rivendell as it is known by most, little one. Do not be afraid. You are safe. _  The voice invaded his mind, which might have frightened him, but her voice (Bilbo didn't know how he knew it was her, but he did) soothed his worries for the moment and she smiled softly at him. 

He thought then, of Lord Elrond. Rivendell... That had been where they were headed! They had made it then, but then he wondered where Gandalf and Thorin were. He had the briefest memory of Gandalf leaving them, going somewhere but he couldn't remember why or where the wizard had left them to. 

_ They are both safe, do not worry about them either. _  Bilbo, though realizing that she could read his thoughts and he could likely actually project his inner voice with her, did not like the quietness or not knowing who she was.

"Who are you?" He questioned, though it took a few clearings of his throat. 

"I am Lady Galadriel. I come from Lothlorien, south of the Misty Mountains. My presence here in Rivendell is but a visit to Lord Elrond, though he urged me to stay until you woke," she spoke with little variation, watching him with careful eyes. "You have had such frights in your rest, I can see it plainly."

"Well," Bilbo said, turning his suddenly nervous eyes elsewhere. "Yes. Did, did  _you_  see them?"

"I caught the end of it through your mind, though I haven't had the chance to experience such a fright that vividly before," Galadriel brought her hands together, offering him a smile. "The sickness you were plagued with has been causing these beforehand and they may have been blocking off the clarity of earlier frights. Lord Elrond did his best but his healing only goes as far as the physical body. The rest is up to you."

"Wait, but... What about that figure there? What was it? What did it want?" His questions were frantic, but that didn't seem to faze her.

"I cannot tell you. Not because I do not know, but it will never be something you have to worry about. Keep what you have to yourself and do not let a word out, for that is all I know I can tell you," Galadriel read his next thoughts, smile waning a fraction. "As I said, Elrond did all he has in his powers. If you continue to let your heart rest in conflict, nothing good can come of it. Thorin Oakenshield did not mean to hurt you, and I can sense you know that. His words were harsh and unintended, do not forgive him for his ignorance. But do not keep him away for his ignorance. You are his teaching force, Bilbo Baggins. The future can go many ways, none of which are set in stone but for what you choose. I would not advise you to do anything but things will not go well if you keep him cold."

Bilbo wanted to inquire more, but then the door to the rooms opened up and another Elf stood there. He looked a bit like Elrond, though younger and dressed in armor. Galadriel did not appear phased by his intrusion, and Bilbo thought perhaps that she'd been expecting it or had some sort of foresight to know it would happen. 

"Lady Galadriel," he said, inclining his head slightly. "My father has asked for your audience briefly. Ah. The halfling is awake," the elf seemed surprised but said nothing more, simply looking over at Galadriel.

"I will be with him in a moment, Elladan," she said, gathering herself up before standing. "Try not to make a ruckus about Mister Baggins being awake, would you? I do believe only Mithrandir and the Dwarf King need to be notified about it."

She swept out then, leaving Bilbo and Elladan to themselves. 

"Hello," the hobbit said, a bit nervously as he hadn't really talked much with the Rivendell elves beside Elrond. Elladan stared at him, before nodding his own hello. "Right, well, um, you see I did just wake up and now that I think about it, I'm rather famished."

It was true. During his conversation with Galadriel, he hadn't noticed, but now it became apparent that he hadn't eaten in some time. How long had he been asleep, that suddenly bugged at his mind? Now, it worried him. It wasn't like this journey had a time restraint as the Quest for Erebor had but if he'd been out for so long, then the sickness Thranduil had mentioned... It had been worse than Bilbo thought.

"Indeed, I imagine you might be," Elladan offered him a smile. "My father will likely prepare a feast for you and your health when the Lady Galadriel informs him you are awake. I am sure you might be able to wait but an hour or so?"

Bilbo frowned, but nodded and glanced down at the ground. He would rather be eating now but a feast sounded nice as well so he decided he could wait. Hopefully it wouldn't be too long... But the time that had elapsed might have been quite long and his thoughts hooked back on Gandalf and Thorin. Galadriel had said they were fine and safe, but he hadn't seen them yet! Elladan seemed to sense his distress then.

"Mister Baggins, what is it? Are you _that_  hungry?" The Elf had a tone of amusement in his voice.

"That's not it," he admonished. "Where are my friends?"

"Ah," Elladan smiled slightly. "Do not worry about them. I am sure that Lady Galadriel has already informed you that they are in fine condition and no worse for wear. Though like my father, Gandalf the Grey need quite a bit of rest and I imagine he is only just awake recently. The Dwarf King..." He looked unsure of what to say, but then he offered a shallower smile. "He is just as well, although he has not yet left your side but by leave of my father or brother. I did not think I would see a dwarf get along well with an elf in any near amount of time. Elrohir will probably be along with the King in a moment."

"Though I find that hard to believe," the hobbit raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. "You shouldn't say that. Thorin's nephew, I'm sure you'll be shocked to find out, his nephew has been quite friendly with an elf from the Mirkwood," and he continued on, closing his eyes and not seeing Elladan's surprised face. "Oh, yes, Thorin did not like that one bit but I suppose he deserves it."

"You sound as though you think he deserves it less than he actually might," the Elf said, and when Bilbo cracked open an eye, Elladan had a curious look about him. "I don't know much about your situation but considering the King has sat by your side with little rest and regard to his own health, whatever anger you have with him might need some readjusting."

"Oh," Bilbo breathed in surprise, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I-"

The door opened, effectively cutting off the conversation that had only just begun. If it were not for the figure standing in the door way, Bilbo might have been a bit more bothered than he was. After all, this was the first time he'd actually had time to talk with an Elf of Rivendell. Besides that, he should have been upset at the lack of manners. You knocked when you entered a room, no matter where you were or who you were seeing! So, no, he wasn't all that surprised when he turned a startled gaze onto the figure and the figure turned out to be Thorin. The King stood there, eyes wide and beside him a slightly flustered Elf (who looked like a copy of Elladan) caught up.

"My apologies," the other elf bit in before anything could be said. "The Lady Galadriel..." but Elladan simply held up a hand, eyes roaming over the startled state of the hobbit and the heaving shoulders of the dwarf king. Whatever he decided he saw there set him on.

"I think we might let them have some privacy, Elrohir, come," Elladan stepped quickly and carefully from one side of the room to the other. His twin turned, not giving them even a last glance before they disappeared. It left the two alone, quiet and slowly, Bilbo relaxed from being startled.

"You know, knocking generally is a custom among most people," he said idly, keeping his eyes on the wall in front of him.

"Bilbo," Thorin said instead of anything else to the hobbit's rude omission. "I am sorry."

"I couldn't imagine what for!" The hobbit finally looked over at the dwarf, face falling slightly when he noted that Thorin looked desperate for any indication that Bilbo didn't completely outright hate him. _I'm not forgiving you_  had been an easy thing to say thus far, because up until now he hadn't honestly seen any point in forgiving the dwarven king for his cold words. 

But Galadriel's advice wore heavy on his mind. It might have been partially true. Now that they were safe in Rivendell, it was unlikely he'd be able to hold onto the anger that had been slowly and surely dissipating. He had understood, early on, that the words had slipped past Thorin's lips without his own record but that didn't excuse the fact that they'd been said.  What he held onto now was personal hurt feelings that were also beginning to leave him. The last few days, the ones he could remember clearly at least, had proven that the words hadn't been all truth.

And Thorin, he had sat by his bedside and left little regard for himself! Bilbo had only ever heard of such in the romance stories that his mother had fed him when Bungo hadn't been paying attention. Tending to the sick in the Shire, especially when it came to dismissal of one's own health, which was... at least to him, quite romantic. He couldn't be quite sure that was where the dwarf's own intentions lie but, it might have been nice to hope for that. After all, their relationship up until the words had been suggesting toward it, but Thorin hadn't indicated anything beyond small kisses. For the hobbit, he had not an idea how such things like courting worked in the dwarf’s culture, and it wasn't like he could do much with the knowledge he did have. It had been heavily implied that if the courtship were to happen, Thorin had to start it. 

In any case, there were no flowers surrounding the mountain for him to use and so he couldn't do anything about it.

But then, like being pulled out of his frights and dreams in past few days, Bilbo registered that he was not, in fact, alone but that he'd been sitting there the last few minutes with a slight frown on his face as he thought about things like flower crowns and courtships instead of heeding the advice Galadriel had given him. She'd seemed fairly sure that this was something he needed to do, why she thought so he couldn't fathom. Internally, a part of him agreed. Thorin stared at him apprehensively. Clearing his throat, this seemed to pull Thorin out of whatever thoughts he'd been in.

"I'll admit that was... less than kind of me," Bilbo said, eyes focusing on something else. "Look, Thorin," the hobbit took a breath. "I'm fairly upset still, of course, and I, well, I just don't know exactly what to say anymore."

"I would hope that you could forgive me, before this goes on any further," the king kept his eyes on Bilbo, though the latter tried his best not to notice this. "Bilbo, I realize I have wronged you, that much has been made clear to me over the past few weeks. I cannot take back my words or that moment, but I am attempting to appeal to your sensibilities." He sighed and the hobbit glanced at him then. "Besides sitting by your bedside these past few days, as is dictated by my people, I have spent time socializing with the elves. They are not all... terrible."

Though based on the look crossing Thorin's face, the statement itself had been hard to get out. 

"I didn't think I'd ever see the day you spent more than a minute in the same room as an Elf without exploding, much less socializing with them!" Bilbo grinned then, which relieved some of the tension in the dwarf's shoulders. The look on his face asked if this meant Bilbo was willing to forgive him now. "Oh, alright. I suppose I have been a tad meaner than I should have. Lady Galadriel told me that it would be better if we stopped," though he did look a bit embarrassed now as he thought about it. 

"So you forgive me?" Even when Bilbo nodded, Thorin tensed. "Truly?"

"Yes, honestly, Thorin," Bilbo huffed and then after a moment, shifted up in the bed and stared hard at the king. "I forgive you, not for the words you spoke, but I forgive you nonetheless. Come here."

The movement of Thorin toward the bed was stuttered, but he still did shift and walked slowly toward the bed as though Bilbo might change his mind. But he would not, not now that the dwarf had lost much of his earlier tenseness. It also felt much more comfortable being able to not ignore Thorin as though he had done something wrong at every turn. He hadn't, it had been but one instant and now that he had forgiven him, there was more of an ease in his own actions. When the king had settled on the edge of the bed, Bilbo grasped for his hand and simply held it. Thorin smiled lightly, the rest of the tension in his shoulders draining. 

"I am still sorry, though," he said quickly, tightening his grip on his hand. 

"Shush," Bilbo groaned, tired now of the various apologies that had begun. "You will tire me with your apologies when they are no longer needed."

With that, Bilbo nodded slightly to himself and then yanked Thorin down by his braid with his other hand. Startled at first, the dwarf didn't respond to the kiss but a moment later he kissed back fiercely. That came as no surprise, as he had expected that the king missed this as much Bilbo did. They sat just there for quite a while, kissing lightly and softly and doing nothing more than that. The hobbit had set no limitations but Thorin had always seemed to have drawn a line that didn't allow anything but kissing. It might have been infuriating but at the same time, Bilbo was glad that this was how it was. 

At least, that had been how it had been up until this particular moment, as Thorin pressed his mouth harder against his suddenly and Bilbo moaned in surprise, fingers curled in the dwarf's hair without him registering he'd done that.  With this apparent sign of permission, the dwarf pressed him down into the bed and the hobbit let him, losing him to the kiss. 

But before they could get much farther than that, the clearing of a throat broke the seemingly impenetrable silence which was then followed by an 'ahem' when they did not immediately stop what they were doing. Turning his head warily, Thorin winced at the sight of Gandalf standing just in the doorway. For his part, the wizard mostly looked amused at the sight before him. Next to him, a slightly flustered Elrond averted his eyes. Glancing down, the dwarf king caught sight of a flushing Bilbo as the hobbit registered that they'd been caught.

"While I am glad to see that you two have decided to stop your foolish fight, I should hope you can, ahem, perhaps give me a moment of your time," Lord Elrond looked still a bit uncomfortable even as he spoke. He looked that way until, eventually, Thorin shifted off of Bilbo and sat beside him on the bed. His attention remained on Bilbo, as did Elrond's. "Considering you have only just woke, I doubt that you have been informed much of the happenings as of late. You would be happy to know that the sickness of the Mirkwood forests has gone and slowly the Elves there are returning it to the Greenwood. Just as well, I have done all I can for your sickness and with the dark nature of Mirkwood gone, you should heal well."

"Ah, Lady Galadriel said something about that..." Bilbo looked confused but when Lord Elrond nodded, he relaxed his shoulders a bit. Where the Elf Lady was now, the hobbit did find interest in knowing but it was unlikely he'd find out anytime soon especially based on the disinterested look on Elrond's face. He settled instead for inquiring about dinner as that happened to be the immediate thing on his mind. "Elladan mentioned something about a feast? I was hoping that might be soon."

"Oh," there was a twinkle in the Elf's eyes. "Yes, Mister Baggins, if you wouldn't mind waiting but a few more moments, the feast shall be ready. But I think Gandalf wished to speak with you and I would not hold him back any longer. Join us when you are done with your talk."

Elrond's brief visit left him a bit bewildered but then the hobbit was distracted by the sight of the wizard as he settled down into a chair. Was the talk going to be long? He hoped not, for he wanted to eat soon as possible and then walk around Rivendell again. Beside him, Thorin relaxed. A moment after that, he startled when his smaller hand fit into the larger hand of the dwarf king. But neither of them said anything, so Bilbo simply let his gaze settle back on Gandalf.

"I am afraid that I will not be able to stay with you for very long from this point, Bilbo," the words startled the hobbit. "If you remember, the plans we agreed upon have me departing from this group when we reach Bree. I had hoped you hadn't forgotten that, or the parting might have startled you," the wizard offered a smile with his words. And Bilbo did remember, he just didn't like to think that he wouldn't be seeing the wizard for some time soon. "Of course, you have Thorin with you and he, I am sure, will be by your side the entire time."

Thorin only grunted in agreement. 

"See? You will be quite fine without me and as I can guess, I would not make it out of the Shire for at least another month if I went with you," Gandalf shook his head, a fond smile on his mouth and a spark in his eyes. While Bilbo let out a laugh and agreed, Thorin did not quite understand that statement or what it meant. There was something about Gandalf and the hobbits, but he just didn't know what it was.

Their conversation went on for another few minutes, Gandalf catching Bilbo up on everything that had happened with clearer details than those before him. At the cause of his sickness and his near death, the hobbit seemed to sober up considerably and he looked slightly disturbed. Once this had been noticed by the wizard, he declared rather abruptly that it was time for them to find the feast Elrond had prepared as he himself felt hunger creeping in. Thorin agreed with a nod, but wouldn't let Bilbo out of his hold and they walked just behind Gandalf with Bilbo's arm looped through his. 

-

The feast had been an event that the Dwarf King hadn't truly been well prepared for. In Erebor, they were still recovering and ate the little food they had with caution. Bard's men were supplying them but this didn't mean much as Dale and Esgaroth had less to give away than they could truly. Even the wood elves did not have much to offer, when Thorin had given in but he hoped that returning Mirkwood to the Greenwood would help them a bit. Or at least the men, which would in turn help the dwarrows of Erebor. 

From what he had heard, hobbits ate quite a lot and frequently. They hadn't been able to supply Bilbo with these meals and much less food than he would have liked his beloved to have. But the hobbit had never even said a word about it, for he truly seemed happy and content with how the mountain was.

This was not a truth, as evidenced by the way the hobbit continued to eat far past any the elves, Gandalf or even Thorin. Had the dwarf not been aware of the hobbit's hunger from the past few days of rest, or the fact that he'd been told on numerous occasions that hobbits ate an amazing amount of food with little trouble, he might have been more shocked but even so. An Elf or two watched him with interest, eyes wide as he ate so much. Gandalf only chuckled, continuing his conversation with Elrond and his sons. 

It was nearly out of nowhere that the child appeared, between Thorin and Bilbo while the hobbit discovered a leftover roll and picked it apart to eat it in pieces. Invested in his food, he gave no mind to the human child staring curiously at the both of them. Thorin turned his head, jumping nearly out of his skin at the sight of the small boy squinting at them. Lord Elrond noticed him then, before the dwarf king could so much as calm himself and before Bilbo could do more than blink at the child in surprise. 

"Estel," he said, a sigh coming off his lips and a frown creasing his face. "You are supposed to be asleep."

"I wasn't tired, Elrond," he greeted back, but his eyes stuck on Thorin and Bilbo, the obvious interest in his face not disappearing. "And mother said we had visitors of odd sorts here tonight."

"We do," the Elf said, pressing a hand to his forehead. "But they are leaving soon and I do not think they would want to be bothered by you, so please, go find your mother and go back to-"

"Oh, I wouldn't mind," Bilbo said, smiling as Estel's gaze snapped to him. Offering him a stronger smile, he turned his head toward Elrond and worked his face into something more impassive. "He's only a child, as far as I can tell, and well, I haven't been around children in ages. I don't think I should so much mind him joining us. Thorin?"

"Hm," Thorin said after a moment but inclined his head in an agreeing nod nonetheless. "There is no problem with it, I should think. We highly value children among my people just as we do our women."

"Very well," the Elf said though his face said he wasn't exactly happy about allowing the boy to join them. Estel, however, had already ran back with a chair and climbed up into, between the dwarf and hobbit, sitting on his knees so that he could be properly up to height with them. Not that it was hard to do that, as both Bilbo and Thorin were shorter than any Man or Elf. 

Much of the remainder of the feast was spent with an obviously annoyed Elrond, eyeing Estel as though he wished the child might disappear from the table if he wished hard enough, and Bilbo answering every single question the child could come up with ("Why are your feet hairy?" followed by the repetition of "But  _why_?") and more for Thorin, but the dwarf simply refused to answer them. They were a secretive race and having a small human child knowing any of the secrets of the dwarrows was not exactly something he wanted. Hobbits, as it turned out, were not. 

Bilbo talked excitedly of the Shire, telling Estel how lovely it would be in but a month, full bloom and the small market they had bustling with the vegetables, flowers, and fruits that the hobbits grew. A sudden guilt twisted in the king's stomach as he watched the hobbit educate the small human child on his home. He had been completely willing to take Bilbo from the Shire, from his home, for he'd never thought that there was any true worth to the Shire. But... but! Now he could see, that the way he had yearned for Erebor, the love he felt for his once home and the feelings of joy he had when they'd regained it, these were the same feelings Bilbo felt for the Shire.

Home.

Of course it made sense, but now he worried the small bag hidden away in his clothes. Even if he accepted the courtship, would he be willing to leave his home completely with little chance of returning home?

It was a shaky thing now, and worse it certainly wasn't the right time to bring it up. Despite the fear of it, he would have to wait until they'd arrived in the Shire, until Bilbo had seen his home again and then Thorin would ask if he wished to be courted, but he would not leave out the end results of that. The hobbit would have to leave the Shire, leave his home behind and his family (did Bilbo have family? Thorin had never asked, never thought of it, but... he had to, didn't he?).

In the end, they lingered in Rivendell another week before Gandalf finally said that it was time to go. Their whole reason for staying that long had been because the wizard grumbled about rest he still needed and that Bilbo might as well enjoy some time there now that he could! Thorin had shrugged, agreeing but still only spent his time with Bilbo or Elrond's sons. Bilbo had been surprised when he'd found Thorin with Elladan once, simply talking with the Elf and nothing more. The Dwarf King hadn't known about this until years later, but when he'd stumbled upon them he had paused and listened to their conversation. Sensing its private nature, the hobbit had smiled to himself and left them alone. 

But now, now they were leaving and with everything packed away, Thorin let out a sigh. He was only a bit relieved to leave Rivendell behind this time. They'd be on the road for a while, with nowhere to stop before Bree. Gandalf and Elrond had agreed that it was highly unlikely they'd run into anything malicious now but the dwarf did not fully expect an easy journey. Summer, however, had begun and it blossomed around them with a warmth that had Bilbo talking excitedly. About tomatoes, of all things but all he could was smile fondly at his beloved.

Elrond saw them off in the morning, for it was sunny and his sons had just returned from scouting out far ahead on the road and into the woods surrounding. It was likely the kindest gesture on the Elves' parts he seen in a while. For the most part, it was safe and nothing would likely come towards them in the small weeks they'd be on the road to Bree. This was only a small reassurance but even Gandalf seemed to take this with a smile.

"I wish you luck," Elrond said, waving them a farewell from where he stood. Elladan and Elrohir stood on either side, and beside one of them (Thorin still couldn't tell the two apart but Bilbo would have told him with ease that that was Elrohir) stood a human woman, holding Estel's hand while he watched them leave. "May we see each other again."

"Yes," Bilbo chirped back, turning and starting their journey without any other words. Gandalf strode ahead of them, but then Bilbo paused and turned back around to call out, "May we always be good friends, Elrond!"

Then, then they were truly off and their journey held a silence that might have been similar to the last time they'd set off but the hobbit hummed under his breath and walked easily by Thorin's side. It went on like this for at least an hour, for they covered a good distance in this time. Many might have wished for a stop then, especially on foot, but Gandalf seemed undaunted and dwarrows were hardy folk who could travel for some time, and it appeared that hobbits were under similar circumstances.

That was, until half an hour later Bilbo began grumbling louder and louder until Gandalf relented and pulled over to the side of the road, setting up a small camp along with a small fire. With no other words, the wizard disappeared but neither hobbit nor dwarf decided to wonder or worry on it. He'd promised his presence with them until Bree and wherever he was going was likely not far away enough to leave them on their own.

Likely because Thorin did not feel rushed and if he'd been asked to wait for Gandalf, he would. That was what he did, in any case.

"What was that, that song you were humming while we were walking?" The dwarf caught his beloved's attention from where he was adding kindling to the fire in order to cook up something small for them.

"Hm?" Bilbo frowned, sitting back and blinking. 

"You were humming, I was curious," Thorin said, and then added quickly, "But you do not have to tell me."

"Oh!" A delighted smile lit up his face. "I've been working on a song, you see! I don't have any title for it yet, and the words are not completely worked out yet, well, I mean," Bilbo sighed then, but he still had a smile on his face. "It isn't complete just yet, but I'd been spending time working on it while in Rivendell. Would you like to hear it?"

"I would be more than delighted to hear you sing, Bilbo," he said after a moment, eyes crinkling when he smiled. "If you do not mind."

"Not at all," the hobbit said, clearing his throat but then faltering. "I, I'm told I do sing quite well and all the hobbits love the songs I write."

"Then," Thorin said, reaching out to hold his hand and stroking his thumb over the smaller, softer hand. "I would certainly be honored to hear an unfinished song from you, before anyone else might. I am sure beyond anything else that your fellow hobbits do not lie for your benefit."

Though obviously nervous, Bilbo did clear his throat again after a moment, closing his eyes but keeping his fingers tight on Thorin's. Whatever the song was, it took him a moment to find it within his mind, but then he did and the concentration in his face slipped a bit. The expression on his face, in fact, looked more of a ease, as though the singing of the song was more relaxing than anything else. 

" _Roads go ever ever on,_  
 _Over rock and under tree,_  
 _By caves where never sun has shone,_  
 _By streams that never find the sea;_  
 _Over snow by winter sown,_  
 _And through the merry flowers of June,_  
 _Over grass and over stone,_  
 _And under mountains of the moon._ "

When Bilbo cracked open an eye, Thorin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss into his lips. "I like it," he whispered, leaning his forehead against his love’s. "Your voice is lovely and I might feel a bit greedy to know that others have heard it before me," he brushed his fingers through the hobbit's curls though Bilbo said nothing in reply. "But I do agree, there needs something else to this song. Do you think you will be able come up with the rest soon?"

"Oh, oh yes!" Thorin let Bilbo pull away from him, to tend to the fire but the hobbit still talked excitedly. "I have a few lines worked out for it, but I certainly wouldn't let anyone hear them until they're perfect. What you have heard is the first half, but I expect that by the time we reach the Shire, I will have the rest good and done with. Now," Bilbo glanced back at him, offering a sausage. "Let's eat, I do not think I can wait for Gandalf to return."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few things!!  
> first off, this fic has nearly 100 subscribers which wow IS A LOT and i want to say that i just love all of you (and anyone that is reading this, i love you too, regardless, i give you all smooches from over the internet)
> 
> second, there are a few things in this chapter that i wanted to mention. so for those who know Estel is Aragorn and at this point hes around 10/11 and all I could think was 'can you imagine lil aragorn basically talking bilbo's ear off'. also, in LOTR Bilbo is friends with Aragorn, I wanted to include that relationship. The song at the end is quoted from the Hobbit. It's part of the song that Bilbo sings as he comes over a hill in the Shire. I really like the musical version of this song aka as The Road Goes On and you should look it up! we are almost to hobbiton now, the part of the fic i have been eagerly awaiting myself....


	12. Home to the Shire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit longer for reasons.
> 
> <3

 As it turned out, the road towards Bree stayed clear for much of the days they moved along. Gandalf had, on various occasions that Thorin grew tired of it, suggested traveling on other roads that branched off the main but Bilbo refused. When they were about half-way towards Bree, the wizard made what would be his last suggestion on the matter.

"No!" The hobbit threw up his hands in frustration. "We haven't run into any trouble yet, and wouldn't it just hinder the journey further?"

Gandalf let out a troubled sigh, but they continued on down the road. Ahead of them, the roars of a camp hit Thorin's ears first. He halted abruptly, Bilbo slamming into his back with an 'oof!'. Next to them, the wizard paused as well. Normally, it wouldn't be worrying to the dwarf (camps of men were not uncommon, especially not in this part, for they had run into them on several occasions when first travelling to the Shire) but no, he and Gandalf should have known of a camp ahead of time. The men always camped close to the road, never far away enough to not see them on the road.

"We can try and make it by them," Thorin said, once they had hidden within the trees. Beside him, Bilbo frowned in confusion. "Men don't usually stop a dawrf on the road."

"And they do not bother me," Gandalf said. "The men do not care for an old man on the road. I do, however, worry for the safety of you, Bilbo Baggins."

"What?" The hobbit huffed in surprise, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't think I've run into any men that tried to harm me before! The Men of Bree find us odd, but they are still friendly to the hobbits and especially the Bree hobbits."

"Not all people are the same, I must remind you that we cannot trust anyone but ourselves on the road, moreso with strangers and men," the wizard sighed. "The Men of Bree have adjusted to your presence because they had to. I would not assume the kindness of men outside of Bree."

"Bree hobbits?" Thorin questioned. Neither wizard nor hobbit glanced back or explained what that meant, but the king tried to recall if he'd seen any hobbits in Bree. He had, now that he thought about it. The men there were kind to the hobbits, helping them and in general not attempting to hurt them. Other Men were not so reliable. But it might have relieved him a bit to know that once they were in Bree, Bilbo would be much safer. "What side of the road is the camp on?"

Gandalf frowned, held up his hand and then disappeared from their hiding spot. With that, Thorin fell back into his thoughts for a brief moment. If they were on the right side of the road, then he could hide Bilbo on his other side and make it past them.

Their assumptions of the men were not to be rude, but it was rare that a group of men traveling through the forests were all good. And Bilbo? He was a hobbit, a tiny creature, and delicate still in his nature and Thorin didn't want to even chance anything. Beside him, Bilbo grumbled to himself but perked up as Gandalf came back around. This tore Thorin from his thoughts and he looked up as the wizard hunched down next to them.

"Their camp is made on the left side of the road, but I could not tell how many there were and where they are from. We could hope they are men from Bree, or maybe even Rangers, but their rowdiness leaves out the possibility of them being rangers."

Bilbo sighed, adding in, "Rangers of the North could have escorted us to Bree safely."

"Indeed," Gandalf agreed. "Though that is not the case, may we hope to run into them before we find ourselves in Bree. If we linger any longer, I am afraid we will lose daylight. I will walk first, but you must be on my heels. It is unlikely men will be interested in a group, no matter how small."

True to these words, the men barely gave them a second glance as they passed by. The camp was small, few men and they all seemed as though they were beyond exhausted. Thorin tried to imagine why, but he could find no reason other than the fact that men could not travel on foot as long as he or Bilbo could.

Much of the remaining journey took place in peace, with little trouble of the wild on them. While Thorin was glad, he wasn’t exactly sure that it a good thing they ran into no danger on the way to Bree.  In fact, trouble and menaces on the road to anywhere was common, even a little. But none? Nothing concerned the dwarf but neither Bilbo nor Gandalf seemed disturbed by their safe journey. In fact, both of them appeared relieved.

The only other thing they ran into on the road was just as the came toward Bree. A group of men, dressed in dark clothes and nearly invisible in the darkening evening, they glanced over at them as they passed. Bilbo gave them a wide smile, a wave, which disturbed Thorin slightly but one of the men raised his hand in greeting but they continued on without another word. 

"Rangers," Gandalf explained to him absentmindedly. "They're from Bree. Many people do not trust them, for their secretive nature, but they are good men and protect those around her."

It did not ease Thorin's feeling on them.

They paused on the outskirts of Bree two weeks after they’d departed from Rivendell. Gandalf turned towards them with what might have been a sad smile, though the dwarf king attempted to ignore it in favor of wondering over where he was leaving them to.

“Now we must say our farewells,” the wizard said, and beside Thorin, Bilbo’s face crumpled. “But I think we shall see each other again soon. I look forward to that day, now, Bilbo, do not be sad.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to react, but oh, alright,” Bilbo sighed but then smiled at the wizard fondly. “I do expect we will see each other again.”

“I need to talk in private with Thorin for a moment,” Gandalf said this and Thorin raised a brow in surprise. “Give us a moment, if you would.”

“What is it, Gandalf?” Thorin frowned, glancing back at Bilbo. The hobbit stood far away enough he’d be out of earshot but not enough to not be seen by them. Still, it was dark and though Thorin could see fine, he didn’t know if the hobbit could.

“I would not be so worried about him, as you are, the men of Bree are welcoming to the hobbits of the Shire for the most part,” the wizard shook his head. “But that is not what I wanted to talk about with you. I fear that there is something wrong but I do not yet know what it is. Look after him, keep him safe as you can.”

“You did not need to tell me that,” Thorin said gruffly, frowning deeper. “I already protect him with my own life; you should know that well enough, wizard.”

“And indeed I do,” Gandalf sighed, but then returned Thorin’s frown with a stern look. “Do not let your guard down, regardless. Farewell, Thorin Oakenshield, I hope we shall meet again.”

“Farewell, then,” he said, quickly adding, “ _Gaubdûkhimâ gagin yâkùlib Mahal_.”

As Thorin approached him, Bilbo glanced up and then sent a relieved smile his way. Ahead of the, the Prancing Pony was alight with the night and its varying, many patrons. The King didn’t particularly like it or the men there, but he remembered Gandalf’s words anyway. The Men here would at least treat Bilbo well and he could manage himself well enough. However, he was still curious about the ‘Bree-hobbits’.

“Off we go,” Bilbo said, holding out his hand to Thorin. “I am beyond tired, practically sleeping on my feet right now, we can depart in the morning for the Shire but really, we must find some sleep. You know,” he added, as they began walking toward the Prancing Pony. “They have specific rooms for hobbits, and if you don’t mind, that is probably what they will give us.”

“I do not mind,” he replied, tightening his hand on Bilbo’s. “We will only be sleeping there after all.”

“Hm, true,” the hobbit nodded, pausing slightly as they started up the road that led into the Prancing Pony. “Did you hear that?”

Thorin frowned, glancing around then. He couldn’t see perfectly well without a little light but still he knew he could see better than Bilbo. No one was out and about at that moment, most of the Men gone to sleep already.

Before he could investigate more, a rock came hurling toward him and he didn’t manage to duck it. Beside him, Bilbo let out a surprised noise and then peered worriedly at Thorin in the dark. He waved the hobbit off, thinking mostly of the bruise that would form on his cheek by the morning. Then he thought of the thrower of the rock, growling as he looked around again. In the shadows, he did spot someone, small and obviously female.

“Show yourself,” he demanded, letting go of Bilbo’s hand and placing his hand on the handle of his sword.

“Oh, honestly,” he heard Bilbo grumble but it didn’t deter him.

The figure stepped out and into the lamplight that hung above them, revealing herself to be a hobbit. Thorin grew more confused. Why had a Hobbit thrown a rock at him! Next to him, Bilbo blinked, made a noise and then his face broke into a smile.

“Primula!”

“I knew it,” the hobbit-lass shrieked, pointing at Bilbo. “The rangers said they ran into a small group headed to Bree, with a hobbit and I said to Rorimac that it had to be you, so I stayed here to see if it was.”

“It’s good to see you,” Bilbo said, but then frowned in a scolding way. “Why did you throw a rock at my traveling companion?”

“Thought it’d be funny,” she said quietly, glancing nervously at Thorin. Her eyes shifted back to Bilbo almost instantly. “Are you staying at the Prancing Pony?”

“It was not funny, Primula,” Bilbo sighed but then gave a nod. “Just for the night, I really would like to get home to Bag End as soon as possible.”

“Then we can share a room for the night! I’ll travel with you into the Shire, if you don’t mind,” Primula grinned eagerly and Bilbo gave a yes, ushering her along. Within the Prancing Pony, there were a few hobbits but they dressed more like men and even wore shoes. Thorin gave them odd looks, but took away that these must be the Bree-hobbits. Fair enough.

Primula, in the better light of the pub/inn, was definitely a young hobbit lass but much like Bilbo, she dressed richly. Unlike him, the hair she possessed was dark but still long curls cascaded down her back and she had flowers braided into her locks.

“A room, please,” she said, holding her head high to the owner of the Prancing Pony. He only gave her a second glance. “My cousin is with me, along with his companion, so if you would not mind giving us the proper room.”

“Of course, Miss Brandybuck,” the owner gestured a hobbit that must have been a Bree inhabitant over to them, and the hobbit led them down to a room. The windows were lower than Thorin had seen. Hobbit rooms indeed.

He’d assumed that they’d be immediately to sleep but to his surprise Bilbo did not go towards one of the beds. The hobbit crossed his arms over his chest, pinning Primula to the spot with a disapproving look.

“What,” he began, gesturing wildly at her. “What on earth do you have flowers in your hair for?”

“Come now, cousin,” Primula said, but she looked a bit nervous. “I don’t think you should have forgotten the significance of this in your short time from the Shire!”

“No, I have certainly not, Primula,” Bilbo frowned. “You are far too young for this. I am having a talk with your mother the next time I see her, I swear.”

“Bilbo! I hardly think that my mother would even say anything against it, considering your mother was married before she even came of age!” Primula smiled widely when Bilbo let out a horrified noise.

Eventually, their arguing devolved into grumbling and then Bilbo collapsed on the bed with exhaustion, leaving Thorin to actually put him in the bed. When he looked over, Primula had already fallen asleep, snoring softly.

The dwarf did not quite understand the nature of their argument but that was a question for another time.

In the morning, neither Bilbo nor Primula seemed to remember that they had been arguing about the flower issue. The two remained amiable toward each other, so Thorin said nothing and they set out after second breakfast.

Said Dwarf King was going to have to readjust his diet to the seven meals per day that hobbits indulged in if he were going to be spending an unknown amount of time in the Shire.

Besides that, nothing all that eventful happened on their way to the Shire. He wasn’t sure when they arrived in the land, for Bilbo was focused on Hobbiton and as it turned out, Hobbiton was but a small portion farther in of the land of the Shire. In fact, as they came across a bridge Bilbo pulled to a stop and shot Primula a curious glance.

“Are you not going home?”

“Well,” she drawled, smiling widely at him. “I thought I might as well accompany you to Hobbiton.”

“Ah, alright, if you want to,” Bilbo shrugged, and then they crossed the bridge. Thorin noticed the way the two hobbits cast nervous glances at the river until they were far from it and walking through the land of the Shire once more.

It was odd and he tucked that observation away.

And they walked for quite a while, stopping for meals along the way, in both Whitfurrows and Frogmorton. In fact, it ended up that they stayed in Frogmorton for another day before they headed out towards Hobbiton once again.

Before they made it to Hobbiton, though, they stopped once again, not even that far from said place, at the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater. Thorin remembered the place, as he had made it the meeting place when he was unsure Bilbo would join them.

Now, though, as the late evening began darkening into night, the Inn seemed alive with shouting and out-of-tune singing. Beside them, Primula made a face but it was less of a grimace and more of a pleased look.

“Looks like we’ll get an entertaining night,” she said, before gathering up her skirts a bit and marching up toward the inn.

“Are you going to come all the way to Bag End or head back home, then?” Bilbo inquired, walking just a step behind her and Thorin even farther behind them.

“I’ll have to head back to Buckland, no doubt Rorimac will come looking for me soon if I do not,” she announced and Bilbo’s eyes strayed to the flowers in her hair. To himself, he wondered if the hobbit courting Primula was one from Hobbiton. That made it all the more shocking. “But for tonight, let’s enjoy the company of the hobbits here and introduce your dwarf friend to the joys of hobbit company.”

She grinned, but then the look faltered.

“I’d have to apologize, I never asked you your name!”

Bilbo looked ready to answer the question for him, but Thorin did not think it would be wise to let his beloved answer that. The folk of the Shire were gentler than any he’d met and if Primula was a cousin on Bilbo’s, he did not feel that being introduced as a King would be a good start.

“Thorin,” he said, eyeing Bilbo before offering a smile to the hobbit-lass. “Your cousin and I are close, I am honored to be able to meet any of his kin.”

“Well,” she announced, her lips curling into a large smile with her eyes practically bugging out of her face. Primula glanced at Bilbo then, slyly looking at him. “Cousin, you certainly have yourself a catch there.”

Then, with a slight giggle, she skipped off and into the Inn, where the singing stopped but a moment and Bilbo could hear one of the Cottons yell, ‘Welcome, Miss Brandybuck!’ before it began again, a tad louder this time. Huffing, Bilbo turned around and frowned at the dwarf standing next to him.

“Why did you do that?” Thorin frowned, bringing his brows together in confusion. “I don’t mind you being nice to people, especially hobbits and my own kin, but don’t you go acting so charming.”

“I thought you’d prefer that I be in my best with your kin,” the dwarf king said after a moment. “It is necessary. After all, you have made your place well in the small family I have and even among my closest friends. Were I not to do the same with you…” The confused look the hobbit sent him made Thorin draw in a breath and he looked away. “It is just something I have to do.”

“Yes, well!” Bilbo smiled softly, sliding their hands together and it startled him. “Do not be too kind or charming towards my family or any hobbit, I fear that you might be receiving proposals before we leave if you are.”

“I doubt that,” Thorin shot him a look that said as much, but the hobbit shook his head with a small sigh and patted his arm before they walked into the inn.

It wasn’t packed, but certainly this was the largest number of hobbits he had seen before and they were not as quiet as Bilbo, nor as respectable as he claimed himself to be. They were loud, much like Primula but they did not dress as fine as Bilbo or his cousin. And, why, there were a couple of hobbit lads stomping their feet on the table. One of them was attempting to lure Primula to join them but she simply laughed and waved him off.

“This is not what I was expecting,” he said, turning his head to survey the rest of the inn. Gathered in the corner, older hobbits were seated and smoking on pipes, obviously gossiping. “Hobbits are truly more surprising than I guessed.”

“Give me a moment,” Bilbo said, laughing slightly and then pointed toward a stool against the bar. “I’ll be just back.”

Thorin had just seated himself, leaning against the bar and watching the barmaid as she cleaned a mug. It seemed that Bilbo’s promise of being right back was not as true, for he hadn’t come back for a few minutes. A roar of laughter came from within the crowd of hobbits and then, to the dwarf’s surprise, the two hobbits stomping on the table were joined by a third—Bilbo.

Beside him, Primula appeared which startled Thorin but she only offered him a mug of beer.

“What,” he said, gesturing at the table where the two younger hobbits were now jostling Bilbo excitedly. But the hobbit did not seem all that bothered. “What is going on there?”

“Oh!” She looked delighted. “Those two are Drogo Baggins and Saradas, one of my brothers,” she nodded, her eyes lingering on Drogo for a moment before looked back over at Thorin. “I imagine they’re as happy to see their cousin as I was. But, Bilbo’s known well for his songs, they asked him to sing one.”

“Is it necessary for them to be on the table?” Not that it wasn’t something a dwarf might do, but the hobbit Thorin knew had always prided himself on his respectable nature and here he was, stamping his feet with his two cousins. But his question was drowned out as Bilbo did begin.

“Alright,” he announced, quieting his two cousins. “I’m sure you know this one well enough, so I will just start it and then you must excuse me,” before he began singing, a cheer rang up through the hobbits. Then, he breathed in and: “ _There’s an inn of old renown where they brew a beer so brown, moon came rolling down the hill one Hevnsday night to drink his fill_.”

Drogo took over, though Bilbo continued on so they sang together, while someone in the inn seemingly took up a fiddle of sorts. “ _On a three-stringed fiddle there played the Ostler’s cat so fair the hornèd Cow that night was seen to dance a jig upon the green. Called by the fiddle to the middle of the muddle where the cow with a caper sent the Small dog squealing. Moon in a fuddle went to huddle by the griddle but he slipped in a puddle and the world went reeling_.”

During this, Saradas joined in and as the two hobbits continued further into the song, Bilbo managed to escape his younger cousins. A moment later, he appeared by Primula and took the mug of beer rather eagerly.

“Suppose you’re going to have to fetch your brother in the morn, Prim,” he said, after he had practically chugged the beer. Thorin frowned at that. “He’s obviously drunken quite enough and he and Drogo look like they’re about to enter a contest.”

“To you, I suspect,” she answered but the shake of Bilbo’s head and the look of a grimace on his face said otherwise. “I do think this is probably the inn’s favorite song of yours.”

“Oh no,” Bilbo snorted, taking another long drink of beer. “They’re all drunk off their rockers and any music suits them well.”

She looked like she wanted to say something more but then the hobbit lass had disappeared and reappeared by her brother and Drogo, laughing as she stomped her feet on the table as well.

“A portion of my family,” Bilbo said, glancing at Thorin. “You’re sure you want to meet all of them?”

“I would not take that back, Bilbo,” the dwarf watched warily as the younger hobbits downed several beers in a very excited way. It was much like a dwarf lad might. “And your cousins are drunk, as you have said, so I do not worry terribly about that.”

“Alright,” he said, sighing into his mug of beer.

“Though I must say,” Thorin amended, dragging his hobbit’s attention back to him. “You all drink in a fashion that I did not expect, surely these hobbits will be on their backs in no time.”

“I shouldn’t think so, Master Dwarf,” a hobbit to their left caught their attention. Bilbo seemed to recognize him, as he smiled openly before turning back to his beer. “We hobbits have a great appreciation for beer and ale, much like we do for food. Making me wonder why Mister Bilbo didn’t tell you that.”

“As much as you claim,” Thorin said, after a moment, frowning in disbelief at the hobbits. “I should think I could drink any of you under the table.”

“Oh,” said one of the hobbits, his face transforming into an amused expression. Around him, the hobbits began to laugh as if some hilarious joke had graced their ears. “Well, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” with his words, there was a murmuring of agreements and general consensus that yes; challenging a hobbit to a drinking contest was not a good idea.

As it turned out, Thorin probably should have listened to them. But his hobbit had let out a laugh, before excusing himself and telling Thorin that if he decided to go to bed there would be a room, just to ask the barmaid at the counter (and don’t be rude about it, even if you’re drunk).

But for all his wit, Bilbo shouldn’t have left the dwarf to his own devices. No, the dwarf attempted challenging Saradas and other cousins of Bilbo’s. It did not go well for him.

He swaggered tiredly, his head swimming; toward the room that the hobbits had laughingly gave Bilbo and Thorin with little to no question. The hobbit had said something about how the hobbits that visited this inn were not so stubborn, although you might see a Brandybuck or a Took; they were still mostly Hobbiton Hobbits. The King wasn’t sure what that meant besides the fact that many of the hobbits gave him uneasy looks until they spotted Bilbo with him and then they’d relaxed.

Now, however, he collapsed on the bed with his face in the pillow. Beside him, he could hear Bilbo shuffling. Without thinking, the dwarf struggled to find and hold his hand, which made the hobbit let out a surprised noise.

“Hobbits,” he groaned into the pillow and he heard Bilbo laugh, but he still held the dwarf’s hand.

“I’m sure I heard Holman tell you _not_ to engage any of the hobbits in a contest,” his tone was amused and Thorin jostled their hands with a grumble. “You should sleep. I don’t expect Primula will be waiting around for us in the morning, and really, we don’t have much longer until we arrive in Hobbiton. We’re only a mile or so from the bridge over The Water and Bag End isn’t far from there.”

Bilbo sounded wistful, as though arriving back to his home was all he had ever wanted. The king wondered briefly if it might be.

That would be the last thing he remembered happening when he woke the next day but it was not, in fact, truly the last thing that happened that night.

While thinking, he felt a sudden streak of jealousy course through. He remembered the portrait of the woman Bilbo had, tucked away safely somewhere. Was there a hobbit lass who he’d left behind, who was worrying over the hobbit and by the morning, word of Bilbo returning home surely would have made its way into Hobbiton. But… Bilbo had returned his kiss, every single small kiss since the initial one and that made the hobbit his. As well, he hadn’t said anything about it. Briefly he thought of the courting beads, hidden away within his own pockets until he felt it right.

To do what he was contemplating would dishonor the hobbit, certainly, but it appeared to be only that way in the dwarves’ eyes for Thorin had been thoroughly embarrassed that night at how open with their affections hobbits were.

He moved quicker than he thought he could in the state he was in, but it was enough to take Bilbo by surprise. In one jostling movement, the hobbit lay under Thorin and he let out a slightly frightened noise. It wasn’t that Bilbo was in any way scared of the dwarf, but he’d been startled nearly out his wits.

“Bilbo,” Thorin murmured, burying his nose in the side of his neck. He didn’t know what to expect but when the King breathed in, shoulders tensing, well. The hobbit was not exactly experienced in much and the only experience he had in this area was kissing. “ _Ghivashel_ ,” he whispered, and Bilbo felt his heart thump louder in his ears.

“I’m not,” he tried but his words failed him, dissolving into mumbles. He sucked in a breath, for Thorin had stopped nuzzling his neck and the dwarf had stilled completely. “I’ve never,” he hurried, struggling for the right words in his desperation. “I’ve never, um, d-done this.”

“ _Ghivashel_ ,” he said again, louder and Bilbo felt a hand come up to stroke his hair. The fingers tangled in it, tugging his head back and the hobbit blinked in surprise as Thorin shifted his head, running his lips over his neck. “I will be careful.”

There were several thoughts Bilbo had, but they were lost when the dwarf shifted and pressed kisses down his throat and then lingering ones over his shoulders. He’d never been touched like this before and when he tightened his fingers in Thorin’s shirt, there was yet another slight pause. Despite his drunken state, he seemed to have his wits about him enough to sense that the hobbit was not sure how to deal with what was happening.

“I can stop,” he said quietly into Bilbo’s shoulder. After a moment, he tightened his hands in the shirt and took a deep breath.

“No,” he answered slowly. “I, I want to.”

He felt Thorin nod against his shoulder and he wasn’t sure what to expect. Perhaps he would pick up kissing at Bilbo’s neck and shoulders? Bilbo liked that, for each kiss was soft and made him feel nearly worshipped. Or maybe he would lean up to kiss him like they had the first time? Little other thought made its way coherently through his mind. Thorin had dipped his head again, biting down hard on the flesh of his shoulder. Without much to hold him back, the hobbit let out a whimper and squeezed his eyes shut. The whimper morphed into a loud moan as the dwarf bruised a kiss there then and pulled back, resting his gaze on the face under him.

Bilbo was beautiful to him, in every single way and he leaned down to kiss his One on the lips before anything else. Though startled, the hobbit responded, loosening his fingers from Thorin’s shirt and wrapping his arms around his neck in an attempt to tug him down.

With a chuckle, Thorin smiled into the kiss and felt the other’s lips mirror the action after a moment.

Slowly, so not as to startle him again, the dwarf shifted back and slid his hands down the hobbit’s chest. He reacted to this, shifting slightly under Thorin’s weight. When he began to unbutton the shirt, Bilbo seemed to realize he was in fact doing something else.

“Uh,” he started, blankly but then caught on and nervously reached his hands up to clutch at Thorin’s own shirt.  The dwarf’s shirt was different, but after a moment he figured out that the fastenings came undone quite easily. He paused to shed the shirt, which gave Bilbo room to struggle the rest of the way out of his. “What, _oh_.”

Thorin had moved back, burying his face back into his shoulder but his hand had moved downward and slid beneath the hobbit’s trousers. When his shirt had been taken off, the bracers that held up his trousers had been pushed off as well, leaving little resistance. Bilbo pushed back against his hand, bucking slightly as Thorin’s fingers curled around the hardening arousal.

“You are a tad eager, I think,” he murmured hotly against the hobbit’s ear, before biting the ear softly. To his surprise, this caused more of a reaction than anything else had had done as Bilbo thrust into his hand with a whimper.

That was new, but not entirely unwelcome information to have and Thorin pressed more kisses to the ear, grinning as it unwound his love further.

“T-Thorin,” Bilbo gasped, fingers digging into his back. This spurred him on, returning his attentions to the erection he still had his fingers curled around. He stroked a few times, watching the hobbit’s face in interest as he moaned, head falling back into the pillow. “Please, _oh_ ,” his breath hitched, hips bucking up as Thorin twisted his wrist on one particular stroke. “ _Please_.”

“I,” the dwarf breathed in sharply, trying to clear his head but it came to no avail. Had he been of a cleared mind he might have been able to but the alcohol he had in his system was far too much for rational thinking. He should have said that this was not a thing to rush, to take the time but instead he withdrew his hand and went searching for a vial of oil. He had packed one, not that he had truly thought he would be able to use it. Now, though, he was glad for it as he stumbled back and knelt before his beloved. Bilbo gazed up at him, lust in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

Despite his state, the one rational part of him clung to preparation as a necessity. If he did not, it would hurt Bilbo doubtlessly (especially since he had never done that before) and that was never something Thorin wished to do again.

“This is going to feel odd, _ghivashel_ ,” he soothed, as he coated his fingers before settling one hand on Bilbo’s thigh. It took a few moments to work himself back up to the earlier urgency, but he thought of the drawing of the woman and the jealousy it struck him. Beneath him, Bilbo frowned and shifted uncomfortably.

“I’ll be fine,” Bilbo said, though there was a tremor in his voice. Thorin knew that for it was, an assurance that was not all true. Still, he was careful as he rubbed a finger over the pucker and the hobbit shifted in surprise.

“Sh,” Thorin murmured, waiting for a moment before fixing a stern look on him. “Relax, or we will we get no farther than this.” That seemed to be a statement Bilbo needed, as very slowly he did relax his body and the muscles of his lower half, which allowed Thorin to work one of his fingers into the entrance. When the hobbit made a noise, brow furrowing, he stroked the thigh under his other hand. “Relax, I told you it will feel odd.”

Eventually, he managed his entire finger inside and he pulled it out, to which a confused noise arose from Bilbo but he leaned over, kissing Bilbo hard and shifting his hand to stroke his cock again, morphing the noise into a groan. Though the position odd, Thorin kept it and slowly worked two fingers in, which took much more time to accomplish but it did help him stretch the muscle more. This time, he stroked inside, looking for something. It took more than a few searching strokes, but then Bilbo gasped, lips falling away from his as he bucked up into Thorin’s hand and struggled to breathe.

“What was that?” Bilbo asked, breathing in heavily as Thorin strayed from the spot, debating a third finger. The dwarf smiled indulgently, leaning down to brush a kiss to his lover’s cheek.

“Something we may discuss later, Bilbo,” he rumbled, drawing out his fingers to which Bilbo slightly protested. These protests did not last long as a moment later, the hobbit felt the pressure of something larger against his entrance. He stilled, sucking a breath but Thorin did not move, a sudden look of concentration on his face. “No, not this way,” he murmured, pulling away from Bilbo. Once again, Bilbo began to protest but he found himself in the lap of the dwarf king before he could process much else. “At your own pace, my love, and I will not crush you with my weight.”

Honestly, it was fairly sensible and Bilbo nodded after a moment, letting Thorin lie back. But he didn’t quite know what to do here and Thorin sensed this, as he shifted his hands onto the hobbit’s behind. Lifting him up, so that Bilbo rested most of his weight onto his knees, Thorin lined his cock back up against Bilbo’s entrance. He could only press in so much this way, but once he had, Bilbo’s eyes widened and he stifled a noise into his hand.

“At your leave, _ghivashel_ ,” the king said, smiling at his love but it only lasted a second or two as Bilbo slammed down on his erection instead of easing himself. This sent all the breath out of him, uttering a curse in Khuzdul while Bilbo whimpered from atop him. “I did not, ah, mean that quickly.”

“My a-apologies,” Bilbo managed, bringing his hips up slowly until he was nearly off Thorin. This time, he eased himself down slower and a bit slower than Thorin liked then. But it set a better rhythm, especially once Thorin began to thrust up and eventually, they were frantically thrusting.

“ _Thorin_ ,” Bilbo moaned, hands scrambling against the dwarf’s chest. He had his own hands gripped tight on Bilbo’s hips, steadying him every so often when he tried to sink down too quickly. Thorin didn't want to rush this, but he could not help some of his thrusts being a bit hurried. However, the look in his face said enough, that the hobbit was close. His dwarf was as well, and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, bringing one hand to the bobbing erection to wrap his fingers around it again.

With a few strokes, he brought his love off and a moment later, managed to pull out before he came. Bilbo gasped out his name as he came, collapsing against his chest. They lingered that way for a while, until the remaining little of Thorin’s sense reminded him to clean them up. When he came back, carefully cleaning up Bilbo, the hobbit gave him a tried smile.

He felt the guilt sink in then.

But he said nothing about it, sinking back into the bed and watching as Bilbo curled up to him. He murmured sweet things into his ears, sometimes slipping into Khuzdul but Bilbo minded none.

“We,” he yawned over his words, eyes closing because he didn’t have the effort to keep them open any longer. “We’ll talk about _that_ in the morning.”

No anger or hurt was held in his tone, though, and after a moment, Thorin reassured himself that it would not be so bad to explain later. If Bilbo did not seem offended by the fact that they had done this before marriage, before courting, than hobbits were probably much different from dwarrows. The soft snores of the hobbit beside him settled him enough to pass out.


End file.
